


Everything But

by msdisdain



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Because Katniss would kick his ass, Begging, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Domination, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Frottage, Gen, Hand Jobs, Haymitch doesn't want to know, Johanna chuckles knowingly, Katniss likes it, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Peeta's in charge, Rain, Sexual Fantasy, The threesome's in Peeta's head, Threesome - F/F/M, but not in the way you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:03:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdisdain/pseuds/msdisdain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss and Peeta have missed their entire teenage experience. Johanna suggests some ways they might...catch up.</p><p> <i>So I think about it. I think about the cave and the beach and the nights on the train; about the primroses and the bread and his fingers folded around mine. About the day on the roof and the hours we'd spent wrapped around each other in this bed, trying to rediscover whatever peace we could find in this life. About how I know that as long as I had choices in this world, I would choose Peeta, and I wasn't sure if he knew that--although he probably did, because he's much smarter about me than I am about him.</i><br/><i>And so I lay my hand on top of his, and say, "Well, where did she suggest we start?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Johanna Has Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> This is the setup chapter, in case you're wondering if the rating is accurate. It will be!

"...and then I put my hand where?"

My greeting dies on my lips as I realize Peeta is on the phone in my study - his voice, puzzled and a little incredulous, echoes down the stairs. _It's not his day with Dr. Aurelius,_ I think, and hitch the full game bag up over my shoulder, lifting my foot to kick the door shut.

His sudden, loud laughter has me closing the door quietly and edging to the foot of the stairs, too curious not to eavesdrop. "Jo. She's not going to let me do that." _She? Me? What won't I let him do?_ "But..." A long pause. "Of course I want..." Johanna was clearly not letting him say much. "Have you _met_ Katniss?"

_Why are he and Johanna talking about me? Is this what he does when I'm gone? Call her up and--wait, what was he saying now?_

"...am certainly not going to call and tell you about it, pervert...yes, I know I called you, but I..." Another long pause. "Jo." He sounds somber now, and maybe a little...defeated? "Jo, we've been sharing a bed again for four months, but we've only just started kissing again. I think maybe that's getting a little ahead--"

My stomach twists. _He called Johanna to talk about--_

"How many times are you going to ask me that? No, I've never touched her like that; I've never even seen her naked...yes, really. You knew that already, anyw--yes, it does ma--":

_Peeta's eyes on her naked body. How many times had she imagined that?_

"OH NO YOU ARE NOT GOING TO CALL HER," he bellows, and then sighs, low and long. "Yes, I am aware of my age and gender...okay. Okay, yes, I'll try that...I don't know; we don't talk about it. We just do it."

_Sleep together?_

"Okay, yeah. Okay. I'll call you in a couple of days...okay. Thanks Jo...okay...you are a pain in the ass, you know that? 'Bye."

His abrupt goodbye startles me and I sprint silently to the door, easing it open and then closing it with a bang. "Peeta?" I call, hoping my voice sounds normal. There's a crash--he must have dropped the phone receiver--then the scrabble and soft click as he grabs it up off the floor and puts it back on the desk. He is so hard to rattle that I stifle a laugh. "The snares caught three rabbits," I say as he descends the stairs, and I try not to notice that his face is flushed as he takes the game bag from my hands.

"Excellent," he says with cheer that might have been forced, or covering something up, but it was always hard to tell with Peeta.

"Were you on the phone?" I ask, following him into the kitchen.

"What? Oh...yeah. Johanna called." He upends the game bag on the table; gets a long knife from a drawer; hands it to me. I begin to skin the rabbits as he chops vegetables and assembles stew ingredients, and we work in silence for awhile.

"So...what did Jo want? Is she coming to visit yet?"

Peeta lets out a laugh that actually sounds a little nervous. What had they talked about? "Not yet...her therapist doesn't think she's quite ready. Soon, I hope. She was just calling to see how we were."

 _And how are we, Peeta?_ "Mmmm," I manage, noncommittally.

We work in silence for awhile, and I soon have a tidy pile of roughly cubed rabbit meat and a decidedly untidy pile of bones and skin (which I swept away into the trash) and entrails (which I put in a bowl on the floor, for Buttercup). I clean my hands at the sink and hang my game bag up in the corner. "Maybe I'll go take a shower?"

"The stew will be awhile, so you have time." He only meets my eyes briefly, and then turns back to his preparations. I actually make it halfway up the stairs before I let out a small sigh and return to the kitchen. We'd seen and done too much for me to back away from this conversation, even though I want nothing more than to run out the door and back into the woods instead.

"Peeta."

He looks up, and I can tell by the resigned look in his eyes that he knows. "You heard me."

I nod.

"Let me get the stew on, Katniss," he says quietly. "Wait for me in the living room?"

"I do need to shower," I say carefully. "I'll meet you upstairs?"

I flee without waiting for an answer.

\--

I spend my entire (super speedy) shower wondering what he's going to tell me. It was obvious I was the subject of the conversation--or _we_ were, I guess. Have they talked about this before? Was the entire purpose of the call to talk about our...relationship?

Our _physical_ relationship? What there was of it, anyway?

I step out of the shower, towel off quickly and slip into a simple shirt and pants. I grab my comb off the counter and slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where Peeta waits. He's standing restlessly in front of the open window, hands in his pockets, staring across the lawn at the house he hasn't slept in for months.

"Hey," I say unnecessarily; I can tell by the stiffening in his shoulders that he heard the door open. He turns slowly to face me.

"I just called Johanna to say hello," he starts.

I wait for more, hearing the unspoken _but_ at the end of the sentence. In the long silence I cross to the corner of the bed nearest to him and sit down, beginning to pull the comb through my hair. Patience has never been my strong suit, but Peeta has always been so patient with me, and I have been trying to be better since we returned to Twelve. So I sit and wait for him to gather his words, watching him return his gaze to the window, and then down at his feet, and finally to me.

"Can I?" he asks, surprising me, gesturing to the comb in my hands. I nod and he circles behind me, taking the comb and continuing the task I began. He's done this for me a few times before. I know it's just an excuse to touch me, but it's also an excuse for me to let him touch me. We've been cautious, yes; we've only just started sharing the occasional kiss. We share a bed but it's been chaste, and while I will admit that yes, I have begun to long for more, there hasn't seemed to be a reason to rush.

And I'm afraid. Of course I'm afraid, and I think he is too. Of what, I'm not sure--but I can feel it. 

As if he can read my mind, he says quietly, "Jo called yesterday to see if we were okay, since we haven't called in awhile, but you were in the woods and I was late to meet Thom, so I told her I would call her back today." It was true, we hadn't called in awhile--we'd both been busy helping with the rebuilding, and continuing to recover, and dodging phone calls from the Capitol. I'm sure we'd also been inadvertently dodging phone calls from Jo, and probably from my mother and Annie as well.

"I guess all those calls weren't just from Plutarch," I say, and I can feel him  smile a little.

"Guess not. She did intimate that if we weren't going to pick up the phone, it'd be nice if we called her once in awhile."

"That's not what she said."

"Well, no; what she said used the word "fuck" a lot more, but I figured you could read between the lines."

Now it was my turn to smile. "What else did she say?"

He laughs a little. "Well, most of that used the word "fuck" as well."

I turn to look at him, my mouth open slightly in shock, and laugh a little myself to cover it. I just stare at him for a moment, watching a faint pink tinge his cheeks, before falling back on my best Effie impression. "Peeta Mellark. Your language!"

He laughs too, and the pink in his cheeks deepens a little. "I don't know if I can talk about this if you're looking at me." I nod, understanding completely--I'm not sure I can talk about this at all--and turn back around. His hands move back to my hair, and he combs quietly for awhile.

"She asked how I was sleeping; I told her much better. She guessed why, but assumed we'd... _advanced_ our relationship. Actually, she assumed we'd done that a long, long time ago. So I set her straight, and she asked me what we were waiting for." He lets out a short sigh--almost a huff. "When I didn't answer, she started asking...other questions. Which is how she ended up finding out...well, basically the extent of what we've done."

 _Kiss,_ I thought. And Peeta's hands had sometimes wandered in his sleep, and she hadn't moved them away. But they'd always been in the Games, or preparing for the Games, or not speaking, or mentally disoriented or hijacked or on trial or recovering. When the hell did Johanna expect them to have time to...

"Okay," I say, stalling for time. I still wasn't sure how I felt about he and Johanna having this conversation. I wasn't mad; after everything we'd been through with Jo, our boundaries were pretty nonexistent. It would be hard to get mad at Peeta for talking to Jo about our physical relationship when she'd listened to him being tortured for weeks, and she and I had a history of being blunt with one another.

"She made some suggestions," he blurts out, interrupting my thoughts, and heat spreads unexpectedly through me. 

"What kind of suggestions?" I manage.

"She pointed out that we were both still teenagers," he says. The comb is running through my hair easily now, and he lays it next to me on the bed. The mattress shifts as he sits down behind my shoulder, and then his hands move back to my hair, smoothing over the waves, twisting strands around his fingers and letting them go. I close my eyes and listen to his voice. 

"We haven't had much of anything normal, Katniss. Sometimes I dream about what life might have been like if we'd never been Reaped...and I'd actually gotten up the nerve to talk to you. If I might have walked you home from school, and eventually gotten up the courage to kiss you. If I'd been able to court you here at home, instead of in the Arena. If...everything hadn't happened.

"But it did happen, and all we can do is make the most of the life we've been given. And we have time now. To...be teenagers, I guess. At least in whatever ways we can, considering that I know I at least feel about fifty years old most days." I nod at that, the corners of my mouth lifting a little. "So while I rejected Jo's more...immediate...ideas, because I think we have nothing but time now and should take some of it, she did make a suggestion that I thought...might be good."

Then he's quiet for a long time, long enough that I turn slightly to look at him. He lifts a hand to my cheek, strokes it softly. "What was it?" I ask him, my voice coming out a little more strained than I'd intended--but the look in his eyes is one I hadn't seen since our night on the beach during the Quell.

"'Everything but'," he says.

"Everything but..." I repeat, trailing off questioningly, although I know what he means. I just...want to hear him say it.

He gnaws on his lip just for a second, and it is completely endearing. "Everything but sex," he says quietly. "I told her I wasn't ready, and I didn't think you were either. And she asked me how we would ever be ready if we never did anything at all, and then gave me some...ideas...of where to start."

We look at each other for a long time; I know he's waiting for me to say something. So I think about it. I think about the cave and the beach and the nights on the train; about the primroses and the bread and his fingers folded around mine. About the day on the roof and the hours we'd spent wrapped around each other in this bed, trying to rediscover whatever peace we could find in this life. About how I know that as long as I had choices in this world, I would choose Peeta, and I wasn't sure if he knew that--although he probably did, because he's much smarter about me than I am about him.

And so I lay my hand on top of his, and say, "Well, where did she suggest we start?"

Warmth floods into his eyes, and he brings his other hand up to cradle the right side of my face. "Here," he breathes, and fits his mouth gently to mine.


	2. In Which Johanna Is a Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I actually felt my knees grow weak. I thought that was an expression that only heroines in those stupid romances that are popular in the Capitol say._
> 
> Frottage. Such a nicer word than "dry humping."

For years, I'd pitied the "slag heap" girls (or "slag sluts," if you were the more crass of my classmates)--the girls at school who didn't have enough confidence in themselves or in their ability to carve out any sort of life in District 12, so they would go off to the slag heap with anybody who asked them to in the hopes of eventually finding a husband. I knew what went on there; you'd have to be an idiot or deaf to not hear at least the basics of sex while living in the Seam, and I knew that Gale (and probably Peeta, for that matter) had taken girls there before.

I don't know why - maybe because I never had time to think about boys - but it never occurred to me that the girls might have been the ones suggesting the couplings.

As Peeta ground his hips into mine, eliciting another moan from my lips, I wondered what else I had missed while living solely to put food on my family's table.

His phone conversation with Johanna had been the day before yesterday; it had been just two days since I'd agreed to try her suggestion. The first night we'd done nothing but kiss--long, deep, exploratory kisses. Hours of them. I'm pretty sure we'd actually fallen asleep kissing. That had continued off and on yesterday, although last night we let our hands roam a little. Just a little. And then there'd been that horrifyingly embarrassing moment when Peeta had rolled over on top of me, and then a bit later I'd gone to roll over on top of him, and instead rolled right off the edge of the bed and hit my head on the corner of the nightstand.

And then Peeta scrambled off the bed so fast that he tripped over me, lost control of his leg and slid into the wall under the window.

It's hard to keep kissing when you're laughing so hard you can barely breathe.

Tonight was a different story altogether.

I'd been wiping down the stove after dinner. Peeta does most of the cooking, and while he cheerfully helps with the cleaning as well, I like to occasionally pretend that we have an equally balanced relationship when it comes to household chores. He carried our plates from the table to the sink and then came up behind me, placing one hand on my waist and lifting my hair off of my neck with the other, pressing a kiss to the skin beneath. A shiver ran through me at the touch of his lips, and he continued to press kisses down the side of my neck and across my collarbone. I let the towel fall from my hand and my head fall to the side, allowing him better access.

I lifted my hands behind my head to grasp his gently, caressing what I could reach, humming in encouragement. But when his hands slipped around and tentatively touched my breasts through my shirt for the first time, I actually felt my knees grow weak. I thought that was an expression that only heroines in those stupid romances that are popular in the Capitol say. When I groaned aloud, Peeta hissed through his teeth and thrust his hips against my ass. I felt his cock rub against me once, twice, before I turned in his arms, grabbed his head and crushed his mouth down on mine.

Our tongues and lips and teeth crashed together, and he had one hand fisted in my hair while the fingers of the other rubbed my nipple through my thin shirt. Something hurt, but I didn't much care, and I heard myself moaning loudly, but I was far past embarrassment at that point; I grabbed his hips with my hands and pulled him as close to me as I could get him. I was raising my own hips awkwardly, trying to get his thrusts to hit that spot between my legs that I often explored myself, but our heights were mismatched just enough to make that frustrating.

"Damn it," I rasped, and Peeta's eyes flew open. I gestured incomprehensibly but he understood, of course he understood, he's _Peeta_ and it's me and he _knows_ me and all I can think is how much more I want him to know me as he put his hands under my ass and boosted me up onto the counter, fitting himself between my legs tightly and thrusting against me again. My eyes rolled back as he grazed my clit through my pants.

"Okay?" he asked, a slightly wicked look in his eyes. Oh, I love wicked Peeta, which is a Peeta I'd only just come to know. And it turns out I really love wicked Peeta with bonus coaching from Johanna. I opened my mouth to tell him, already imagining the look on his face, but he's got his cock pressed right up against me now and his hips are circling, and his hands are both on my breasts and my nipples are rock hard and something is gathering between my legs like thunder. I've orgasmed before, alone in my bed or my bath, my fingers moving in smooth circles between my legs, but this is different, this is so much better, this is like an explosion.

"Peeta," I moaned, and then again, _"Peeta!"_ as I spasmed against him, my entire body shaking. He swallowed his name with his lips and tongue, still thrusting against me, catching every aftershock with the length of his cock.

"Katniss," he groaned into my mouth. "You're so...I can't believe... _fuck,_ I'm going to come," and he buried his face in my neck, groaning my name over and over.

After, he stood half-collapsed against me for long moments, his mouth and fingers still busy with neck and nipples.

"Peeta?" I murmured, feeling the heat slowly start building again.

"Mmmmm?"

"Bed."

I muffled his laughter with my mouth as he moved to swing me off the counter, but a grimace crossed his face and he dropped his hands.

"What is it? Are you okay?" I asked. He pulled at the waistband of his pants a little, and then let it go. 

"Bathroom first," he said. At my confused look, he continued, "Um...when I came, I..." He trailed off awkwardly, gesturing at his crotch. 

"Oh." I said, not sure what to say, and I understood. We stood there for a moment, not really looking at each other. Something popped into my head, and I felt the flush crawl up my neck, but I opened my mouth and said it anyway. "Next time, I want to watch it happen."

With a guttural moan, moving almost faster than I'd ever seen him move, Peeta grabbed me off the counter and carried me toward the stairs.

Johanna is a genius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep mixing up my tenses, and am now officially looking for a beta.


	3. In Which Johanna Receives a Frustrating Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Later, I would decide the whole thing had started because I couldn't stand being cooped up inside for another second._

It was another week before I broke down and called Johanna myself.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to try to get the upper hand, brainless," she said...no, sang out. I swear, I have never heard her so cheerful before. I gritted my teeth and clenched the phone.

"So help me, Jo..." I managed before she cut me off with a cackle.

"What? You'll what, Kat? Hang up? Go ahead! Then march over and ask Haymitch what the best way is to wrap your mouth around Peeta's cock."

I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it again. I'm sure I looked like a fish. I closed it again. Eventually I settled for a sort of combination exhale/splutter.

"Well, that's why you're calling, isn't it? Tips? Advice?" She paused for a moment. "Or is it to gossip? Complain? Fuck, don't tell me Mellark's equipment is tiny. Is that it? Not that you'd have much to compare it to, but still, a girl knows what she likes, and I can't imagine the Mockingjay settling for anything less than--"

"JO." She actually stopped. I filed away a mental note to try "really loud" with her more often. "Peeta's...equipment...seems...uh..." _If you're old enough to do it, you're old enough to talk about it,_ I told myself, repeating the sentence that had become my mantra during the three days it had taken me to get up the nerve to pick up the phone. "It seems adequate."

Johanna roared with laughter. "Wow. I hope that's what you told him. That's the word that gets a guy hard, right there. It's simple, brainless, he's either hung or he isn't."

I was pretty sure I had to be fuchsia at this point. "Until last night we still had our pants on."

There was a long silence, and then, "Katniss." more silence. "Katniss," and her voice was rising at this point, "it's been a week and a half and you're still at the fully-clothed-humping part of this?" she let out her breath in an exasperated huff. "He's clearly going at your pace, then, which I think I would describe as glacial. This is a man who's been sexually frustrated for, what, ten years? Has he even gotten your shirt off?"

I swallowed hard as something twitched between my legs.

"Wait. You said 'until last night.' Hang on--I want to sit for this." I heard the scrape of chair legs across a wooden floor. "Okay, spill it. What happened last night?"

_THE NIGHT BEFORE_

Later, I would decide the whole thing had started because I couldn't stand being cooped up inside for another second. It had been raining, hard and steady, for three days straight. The woods are nice in a drizzle, sometimes, but three days of driving spring rain just means lots of mud and animals that stay in their burrows and nests, so I didn't bother to even try hunting.

We'd slept in. Napped. Done laundry. Watched television. Kissed and touched on every flat surface in the house. Played cards. Peeta tried to show me how to bake bread, but I'd just gotten frustrated and started a flour fight instead. We worked on the memory book. And it rained.

And rained.

And rained.

It takes a lot to try Peeta's patience--even considering the after effects of the hijacking--but after I'd snapped at him for the third or fifth or sixtieth time that day, he'd rolled his eyes and said, "Katniss, just go out in the damn rain, or shut up about it already."

My mouth fell open, and I could see that he was shocked himself. If I'm being honest with myself, it's really ridiculous just how much of my sullen, solitary, snappy nature Peeta puts up with on a daily basis. To his credit, he didn't immediately apologize. I shoved off the couch, and--it must be said--flounced over to the front door, flung it open, and stalked out into the rain.

It was cold, and it was steady, and it was really, really wet. I was soaked to the bone almost immediately. But I was also stubborn, so I decided to go for a spiteful walk. Turning on my heel in the mud, I crossed the yard and circled behind the house, choosing a roundabout way to get to my woods. I'd barely made it around the corner, though, before I felt his hand close on my upper arm. I shook it off as hard as I could.

"Go back inside. I'm spending some time out in the damn rain."

I heard his exasperated huff but still didn't turn around. "Katniss. Come back inside. You're soaking wet now and you're being--" He stopped abruptly, as if reconsidering his words.

"What? I'm being what? Ridiculous? Immature?" I whirled around on him. He raised an eyebrow and said nothing, which only caused my annoyance to surge (unfairly) higher. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not perfect like you. And I happen to like the rain. I'll come back in when I'm ready, Peeta, and not a--"

He reached out suddenly and grabbed my shoulders, hard. Something cold sank in my chest--he hadn't had a major episode in two months, and I didn't know what would happen if he had one now. But instead I watched his eyes--angry, frustrated, but still _Peeta's_ \--roam over my breasts, which were clearly visible through my wet shirt, and then meet mine again, flaring with sudden heat. His hands yanked me to his chest, hard. " _Shut up_ , Katniss," he said, and crushed his mouth down on mine. I was startled into kissing him back, meeting the push of his tongue with my own, but after only seconds remembered that he'd told me to shut up twice, and that I was angry at him, and I flattened my hands against his chest and shoved.

"I said I was going for a walk." I turned to go again, and again he grabbed me. I was knocked off balance momentarily and ended up crashing backwards into the side of the house. 

Peeta was in front of me in seconds, pressing his body to mine, keeping me from moving. "You can be really fucking stubborn, do you know that?" and again his mouth moved over mine, hot and slick. I made a few attempts to wriggle free, but his hands pinned me to the wall, and soon enough the anger was mixing with some of the strongest desire I'd felt yet. "It's not my fault it's raining," he bit out, planting rough kisses down my neck, using his teeth in a way that would likely leave marks. "So stop," he said as he brought his hands up to grasp my breasts through my shirt, "taking it out on me."

I was almost dizzy now with irrational anger and the hot, spiraling desire he'd raised in me in seconds. Suddenly I remembered Johanna in 13, sarcastically recommending that I try to bring Peeta back by sleeping with him: "Angry sex is awesome, and it's hard to remember anything afterward anyway." And so I fisted one hand in his hair tightly and grabbed his ass with the other, pulling his crotch into mine as hard as I could. He growled long and low into my neck in a way that might have been funny if it didn't immediately make me want to answer in return, and he dropped his hands to my waist, grasped the hem of my shirt and shoved it up toward my neck.

In nearly two weeks, we had yet to remove or even lift any clothing. I might have felt embarrassed about my scars if he hadn't been staring at my breasts like they were a meal. He cupped them with both hands, thumbs rubbing across my hard nipples, and then he bent his head and sucked first one and then the other into his mouth. And then I did growl, and held onto his head with both hands.

Who knows what might have happened then if the voice hadn't rang out across the lawn.

"You might want to take those inside, sweetheart--no one wants to watch their kids fuck in the yard."

Haymitch.

Drunk, awake, and leaning out an upstairs window.

I yanked my shirt down as quickly as I could, feeling the flush of embarrassment on my face. I shoved away from Peeta and stalked back toward the house as Haymitch's window slammed shut. 

\--

"When do the pants come off?" Johanna asked when I paused.

"Is that really more important than the fact that Haymitch saw us?"

Johanna snorted. "You practically live together. I'm pretty sure he thinks you and Peeta are doing it already."

"But..."

"Katniss. They're breasts. He's seen some before. He's seen mine. Hell, _you've_ seen mine. Move on. What happened next?"

I opened my mouth to continue when I heard the door open. "Peeta's home for lunch, Jo--I'll call you back."

"What? No way. You need to--" is all I heard before I set the phone down with a gentle click.


	4. In Which Johanna Is (Naturally) Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Our desires and needs had matched pretty well up to this point, but while Peeta used to touch me carefully, like I might break, now he touched me with a surety that was breathtaking to feel. Was that the tips from Johanna? Or just Peeta, knowing me better than I'd ever known myself?_

"I thought you were having lunch with Delly," I called as I walked downstairs. In the living room, however, I met not Peeta but a fairly uncomfortable looking Haymitch. Reflexively I crossed my arms over my breasts, despite being fully clothed. "Oh," was all I managed.

"Yeah," he said. "Look, sweetheart, I'm as sober as I get right now, so let me just get this over with so I can remedy that and we can go back to pretending this never happened." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what I said, okay? Just...try to keep it to yourselves from now on."

I dropped my eyes and folded my arms even tighter. "We're of age, Haymitch, and it's really not your business--"

"Katniss." 

"...what we do. We can handle our own lives now, no matter what Plutarch told you--"

_"Katniss."_

At the weird tone in his voice--what was it?--I looked up. "Do you remember what I said?"

_You might want to take those inside, sweetheart--no one wants to watch their kids fuck in the yard._

I stared at him for a long moment, the words playing in my head over and over again. And then it sank in, what he meant, and tears unexpectedly pricked at my eyes, despite the absurdity and embarrassment of the situation. We aren't sentimental people, Haymitch and I. We don't talk about our feelings for one another. Hell, we don't talk about feelings, period. Just for him to come over and say this much must have taken a huge amount of internal fortitude. Leave it to Haymitch to wait for a moment like this.

"He's...seemed better. You're okay?" I nodded, not trusting my voice. "You two deserve whatever happiness you're finding, and whatever privacy you need to find it. I'll try not to embarrass you--about that, anyway--if you'll just keep...all that...in the damn house."

"Okay," I said. I really hoped this conversation was over.

Haymitch shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "So...is there anything..."

"No. NO!" I suppressed the urge to curl up in a fetal position on the floor. "I'm good! I...know...stuff. I've been told."

He looked incredibly relieved, and backed quickly toward the door. "Okay. Okay. Just...if you need...yeah. Dinner. See you." And the door opened and he practically fell through it in his haste to leave.

I dropped down on the couch, head in my hands, cheeks burning, tears still threatening. It wasn't much, this family, but it was all we had. My da was gone; Peeta's parents were gone; my mother was almost unreachable. Haymitch had become our family, because of--or maybe despite--everything we'd been through. 

I sat there for long moments, waiting to see if Peeta really was coming home for lunch. When it became obvious that he had stayed in town, I climbed the stairs to put Johanna out of her misery. Plus, I had something else to tell her now.

\--

"Next time you do that I will pack my axe and set off for Twelve, you heartless bitch," was what she chose for her opening line. "If that was Peeta's idea of a lunchtime quickie, you should tell him he doesn't have to be quite _that_ fast."

"It was Haymitch."

Jo was silent for a moment. "Come over to give you the Abernathy version of the dad talk?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"How was it?"

"Kind of excruciating, but..."

Johanna laughed a little. "But nice? Like...well, a dad."

I swallowed the damn tears back again. "Yeah."

"The bastard really loves you."

"I know," I said simply.

"Well, fuck him; he's always had questionable taste and I've got a serious set of blue balls right now. Where's the rest of my story, Mockingjay?"

"Don't you already know it?" I countered. "Peeta told me you gave him the idea."

"Baby, I gave Peeta all kinds of ideas--not that he doesn't have plenty of his own. Having had older brothers and all." She paused to let that sink in. "I've just been helping him...narrow down and refine. Why don't you tell me what happened when you went back inside last night?"

THE NIGHT BEFORE, CONTINUED

Peeta caught the door just before it slammed shut. While he closed it, I advanced on him. "Haymitch saw us!" I bit out. "What the hell, Peeta? What was that?" I shoved him, hard. "He...saw...he saw my..."

"Your breasts, Katniss? I know. I was there. He'll live. You both will." He took my shoulders, turned me, and backed me up against the door. "Tell me to stop," he breathed into my ear, grazing my neck with his teeth again. "I wouldn't have kissed you again after the first time if you hadn't seemed into it--was I wrong?"

I could have lied and told him yes, and he would have backed off and left me alone with my (completely irrational) anger. He would have let me go, most likely (being Peeta) apologized, and gone to bake me some cheese buns or something. Even now, as I hesitated, I could see uncertainty warring with the lust in his eyes, and his hands were beginning to loosen their grip on me. 

But I promised to be honest with him, and with myself.

"No, damn you," I whispered. He moved to kiss me, but I turned my face slightly. "You told me to shut up. Twice."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Katniss, you were kind of being a bitch." I stared at him, and then dropped my eyes with a shrug. He was, if nothing else, right about that. He let out a small sigh and shook his head as if to clear it. "You're shivering," he said, running his hands over my wet arms. "Let's go up and get dried off, and then we'll come back down and I'll make some hot chocolate to warm you up." 

And here he was again without warning: the Peeta who's loved me since he was five. The Peeta who has lived for me for years; who fought his way back to me. The Peeta who will do anything to make me happy, even at the end of a day when I've been absolutely horrible. 

The Peeta who was willing to put aside the heat that had him grabbing me; pushing me; commanding me; baring my breasts under his hungry gaze.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_

I reached down, took hold of the hem of my shirt and dragged it over my head. I was rewarded with the almost reverent look that swept across his face.

I wasn't sure what he might have in mind, and I honestly wasn't sure what I would be willing to do. Our desires and needs had matched pretty well up to this point, but while Peeta used to touch me carefully, like I might break, now he touched me with a surety that was breathtaking to feel. Was that the tips from Johanna? Or just Peeta, knowing me better than I'd ever known myself? It put me off balance, and I was afraid I might not be changing as quickly as he seemed to be.

But then...had I ever?

Would he always have to wait for me to catch up?

Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on top of mine. "I don't want to go upstairs," I said, and pulled him against me. His lips met mine and he twined our hands together. As he plunged his tongue into my mouth he brought our joined hands up and pinned mine over my head, against the door. There was something about the motion that was deeply arousing, and I moaned deep in my throat. He broke the kiss and touched his forehead to mine. 

"Do you like it when I do this?" he whispered.

I opened my mouth, but it was suddenly so dry at his question that I could only nod.

"Good, because I've had many years to think about all the things I want us to do together," he continued, nipping at my neck again like he had outside. He licked the hollow at my throat, grazed my collarbone with his teeth, and bathed my earlobes with his tongue, all the while keeping my hands firmly held in his. "And I think it's only fair that I get to be in charge occasionally," he murmured. I could only let out another moan in response--while I'd never considered it before, the idea of Peeta being...domineering...in bed was a highly arousing one.

"Take off your pants, Katniss." He released my hands and took a step back.

My fingers moved to my waistband and I watched him swallow, hard, as my pants and underwear joined the pile. With slightly shaky fingers, he stripped his off soon after. "I'm still not ready," I whispered as his eyes raked over me, filled with desire and, I think, disbelief. We had never been completely undressed in front of one another before. I know I was staring as well. I had seen plenty of naked men before, but they'd all been seriously injured or dying. Peeta was tall and strong; the muscles in his chest and arms were still prominent from training in 13 and from assisting in the rebuilding of 12. Also, none of the injured or dying men had been in this...state of arousal. I'd seen a man's penis before, but never an erect one, and feeling Peeta's rub against me through layers of clothing hadn't prepared me for the sight of it.

"Me either," he admitted. "But you might have to remind me of that in a half hour or so." He stared at me for a long moment as if trying to memorize the sight, and then his lips curled up into that wicked half-smile that's suddenly been on display so often. He took my hand and led me over to the couch, pulling me down with him so I was half-sitting, half-lying across his lap, my head nestled against the throw pillows that were piled at one end.

Then his hands came up and cupped my breasts and his mouth closed around my nipple and thinking was over. I lost all track of time as he lavished attention on my breasts and neck and mouth and ears, all the while holding me securely in his lap. I'm sure I could have gotten free if I'd really tried, but there was something freeing--and unbelievably arousing--about letting him take control. About his body, pressed against mine; his teeth, nipping at my skin almost to the point of pain but not quite; his half-erect penis against my thigh. Not everything felt right, but Peeta's always been a good listener, and he seemed to be figuring out what to do based on the noises I made. 

And then I silently thanked whoever had selected this very wide couch as he shifted us both so that he was underneath me, and nestled his thigh firmly between mine. As I thrust my hands into his hair and tried through my kiss to show him how amazing he was making me feel, I discovered that if I moved just right, I could rub my clit against his skin. 

Once I began to rub against him he grabbed my ass and found my rhythm, helping me hit my mark with much greater accuracy and pressure. Sooner than I could have imagined, I was moaning into his mouth as I rode out my orgasm. As I collapsed against him, my heart pounding, his hands moved slowly up and down my sides, teasing at the edges of my breasts. "I'm going to learn to make you come every way possible," he breathed into my ear. "With my hands. With my mouth." I moaned even louder. "With my cock inside you." I moaned so loudly I was sure Haymitch could hear me, but I was beyond caring.

He was rock-hard beneath me, and I couldn't resist moving directly on top of him. I rubbed against him just once, the tip of his cock very close to entering me. 

"Peeta," I groaned.

"I know," he managed.

"That feels..."

_"I know."_

"Do you still want to..."

"Do you?"

Did I still want to wait? "Yes, although I'm having a hard time remembering why," I said.

"That's my line," he said, grinning up at me in the near-darkness. 

"So we just...stop?" I said, hoping he would say no, planning on arguing with him if he did.

He took hold of my hips and raised his pelvis, rubbing his cock against me. Hard. Coherent thought fled. "Do you want to stop?" he panted.

"No!"

"Then fortunately I have years of imagination to draw on." He pushed me up and off of him, settling me into a sideways seated position before sitting up to face me. Before we lose our resolve," he explained. I looked at him quizzically until he bent one of legs beneath him, planted his other foot on the floor, and wrapped his right hand around his cock. "You wanted to see it happen," he said, and my mouth fell open slightly. I watched, speechless, as he stroked himself slowly. "Do you know how many times I've done this, dreaming of what you look like naked? Of kissing you, touching you, making you come?" All I could do was shake my head, fixated on watching his hand move up and down, spellbound by his words. The combination of how he made me feel and the way he could turn a phrase was possibly going to kill me. "Hundreds of times, Katniss. In my bed over the bakery. In my compartment on the train. In the training center. Next door." His smile turned slightly sheepish and his hand paused. "In the bathroom, last night."

I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a moan.

He began stroking his cock again, his thumb occasionally passing over the tip. "Are you wet, Katniss?" I barely managed a nod. "Have you ever touched yourself and thought of me?"

"Yes." My voice was a barely audible rasp.

"Show me."

As if in a dream, I found myself spreading my thighs apart, and before I'd even moved my fingers Peeta had groaned so loud I worried Haymitch might hear through the closed window. I slid my fingers through the tangle of hair and easily found my clit. One, two strokes down and back showed me that I'd never been so wet. The throb between my legs told me that this was not going to take very long, despite my previous orgasm, and from the labored sound of Peeta's breathing, it would be the same for him.

"Last month I woke up from a nightmare, and when I turned to look at you, your nightgown had slipped down over your shoulder," he said, barely audible. "I saw one of your breasts for the first time, and wanted to wake you up by kissing you there."

Was that animal groaning coming from me? 

"But I didn't want to stop there, Katniss," he continued, eyes closing briefly as if remembering but then meeting mine again. "I wanted to push your knees apart and bury my face between your legs, and make you come with my tongue." I was panting at this point, so far past embarrassment that I would have done anything he asked me to. "Do you want me to do that? Touch you with my mouth like you're touching yourself now?" I could barely nod, because I was so close to the edge and so fixated on his words. "That night I went to the bathroom and I took my cock in my hand, like this, and I thought about--" His words dissolved into a guttural moan and I watched as he shot a thick, milky-white liquid all over his stomach. His hand moved slower now as the last drops flew out. My fingers stilled momentarily as I watched, fascinated.

"Don't stop."

I had a feeling that commanding tone would eventually convince me to do all kinds of things. I watched him, watching my fingers making tight, firm circles on my clit.

"My turn next time," he said, and the smile was back. "If I do it wrong, will you show me how you like it?" I lifted my chin in a sort of half-nod, so turned on by the look on his face that I could hardly bear it. "I like to be good at things, Katniss, so it might take me a lot of practice." Honestly, anyone walking past the house might actually think I was dying. "We might need to spend the whole month in bed with my mouth and fingers in your--"

I spasmed violently, my hand falling to the side, and he gathered me in and held me as I cried out. His body was sticky against mine and I didn't care--I never wanted to move from the couch. He laid back gently and cradled me against him, stroking a hand over my hair as I ran my fingers over his chest. I was suddenly so tired, and as the minutes passed, I couldn't conceal it. I yawned as he grabbed the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and pulled it over us. As my eyes fluttered closed, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"I love you."

I smiled as the darkness crept in and carried me off. I felt him stiffen beneath me as I murmured, "I love you too"--but I was asleep too soon after to say anything more.

\--

"So I was right," Johanna crowed. "The Mockingjay does want someone to make her sing instead of always leading the song herself."

I bit my lip. "So that's...normal?"

"Not for me!" she laughed, but then her voice dropped. "Kat, I know I'm rarely serious, but take this at face value: whatever you and Peeta like is normal. You make your own normal, okay?"

"Okay."

Suddenly she was laughing, and her tone turned mocking again. "Did you seriously tell him you loved him for the first time and then fall asleep?"

I sighed. "Yeah. I guess I did."

"That's some crazy good timing you've got there. What did he say this morning?"

"He was gone when I woke up," I admitted. "The bakery's in the final rebuilding stages. I was supposed to go in with him this morning but he let me sleep. I didn't even remember I'd said it until a couple hours after I woke up."

"I'm guessing he's going to want to hear it again."

I smiled. It had just slipped out, but it felt right. I knew it was right, and true. "Yeah, probably. Maybe I should cook dinner or something."

"You want to love him, not kill him, brainless."

"I suppose you're right."

Johanna chuckled. "Well, make sure to call me back when you reach the next stage, okay? And I was serious about the advice I offered earlier. The way to a man's heart is through a good blow--"

"Okay, well, I should probably go," I said quickly, cutting her off. 

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just remember I expect you to keep me in stories."

"Come visit and we can talk in person."

"I'll be ready eventually."

"I know. We miss you," I said simply.

"Haymitch too drunk to fill your daily need for insults?"

"Something like that," I said. She laughed, and I was smiling when we hung up.


	5. In Which Johanna Is (Once Again) Right--Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I think about the face Peeta has presented to Panem, and wonder how shocked people would be to hear these things coming out of his mouth. I might be shocked myself, if I wasn't so turned on I thought I might die._

I didn't remember falling asleep.

I prepped dinner, then sat down on the couch to leaf through a book and wait for Peeta to come home. The next thing I knew, I was struggling up out of a terror-soaked layer of sleep with tears on my face and a scream on my lips and his arms around me, his voice low in my ear. 

_"Katniss..."_

The sound of my name on Peeta's lips pulled me abruptly from sleep. 

"...right here...you just fell asleep, Katniss; I'm right here. It's okay. I'm sorry I was late." His hand moved softly over my tangled hair as I pressed my face into his chest and sobbed, trying to remember what had caused the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Peeta rarely remembered his nightmares anymore; he just woke to a general feeling of horror. But given a minute or two, mine always came back to me. This time was no different.

"They took you," was all I eventually managed. 

"I came back." His arms wrapped around me tighter. For some reason, this made me cry harder. "Katniss. I came back." 

I don't know why this nightmare had been so awful; it had been over a month since the last truly bad one I'd had. Of course, I rarely fall asleep alone anymore. "I was in Thirteen, and I could hear you calling me, and i was running through hallways and up and down stairs and I couldn't reach you. You were so close and I couldn't get to you." My voice sounded broken even to me. "I didn't think you would ever come back. I thought I had lost you."

"I know." His lips touched my forehead; the edge of my jaw. "But I'm here. I'm sorry you fell asleep without me."

I let him comfort me, feeling the panic and fear inside me start to slowly unknot as I learned for the hundredth time that he had come back to me. That I'd been given another chance with the boy--the man--who'd always offered me everything, selflessly. Perhaps this was the only good thing about the nightmares--I would never take him for granted, because the pain of having him stolen from me would always be so fresh in my mind.

_I'm guessing he's going to want to hear it again._

I dried my tears on his shirtfront, Johanna's words from earlier ringing through my head. His head rested on top of mine, his cheek on my hair, as he continued to make quiet reassurances to me. I began to relax against him, my heart rate slowing a little and my breath coming a little steadier. I couldn't believe I'd actually cried. I couldn't remember the last time a nightmare brought me to tears. But I'd been feeling emotional all day, nervous and afraid of what I was going to say to him. I'd cried rarely since returning to Twelve. I'd never been a big crier, ever, and despite the hardships I'd been through, I chose to comfort myself through hunting and the book and Peeta. Tears had been few and far between, until now.

He put his fingers under my chin and lifted my head, gently wiping the tears from my face. "I came back," he repeated. "I'm right here. I won't leave again."

I took a deep breath, and while my exhalation was still a little shaky, it was calmer.

And it was time.

His right hand still cupped my cheek, and he stroked my skin lightly with his thumb. I raised my left hand and laid it over his, and met his gaze squarely. I felt remarkably steady despite what I was about to do.

"I love you," I said.

Peeta closed his eyes and his fingers twitched on my cheek. Now it was his exhalation that was shaky as he opened his eyes again and searched my face. "It wasn't an accident, last night, or a partial dream."

"No."

"You meant to say it."

I nodded.

"Say it again."

The corners of my mouth lifted a little. "I love you, Peeta."

He brought his other hand up and cradled my face. "I'm still not quite sure I heard you correctly," he said lightly, brushing a kiss over my mouth.

"Should I have told Caesar Flickerman first?" I asked, the horrors of minutes before forgotten as I began to relish the quiet joy he was radiating. 

"Only if you're trying to steal my moves." He cut off my bark of laughter with a kiss that left me a little breathless. "Tell me again, Katniss."

I thrust my hands into his hair and touched my forehead to his. "Peeta Mellark. I love you." Our noses brushed together in what could only be called a nuzzle. "I should have told you before," I whispered.

"You're telling me now."

I shook my head, and I felt the tears gathering again. I shifted my weight towards his lap and he immediately lifted me up, gathered me close. "I should have told you on the beach, in the Quell. I should have told you in the Capitol. I should have told you in Thirteen. I should have--" my voice broke, and I closed my eyes, shaking my head over and over. "I'm sorry--"

Peeta cut off my words with a kiss so gentle it made the tears spill over, and when he drew back, I saw that his eyes were wet too. "Don't be sorry. We can't go back there. We can't keep reliving the past." He pressed his cheek to mine and I closed my eyes as the tears dripped down my face again and mingled with his. We sat there for long moments in the lengthening shadows of the day, both of us shuddering with shared sorrow. 

"Prim would be proud of me," I eventually managed, my eyes still closed. His hand came up and stroked my hair gently. Encouragingly. Even now, I almost never talked about her. "She liked you so much. She thought you were good for me. When no one else believed you would recover, she did." I'd told him all of this before, of course, but he was nodding attentively like it was the first time.

"I would have loved having a little sister," he said simply, which of course brought on a fresh round of tears for all we had lost. As it grew darker in the living room, Peeta stretched out his arm and switched on a light. He dragged the sleeve of his shirt across his eyes, and then, with aching gentleness, wiped my cheeks dry. 

"I love you," I said again, because the more I said it to Peeta, the more I wanted to say it, and because I couldn't say it to Prim, and because I was elated and devastated and wrapped up so tightly in the arms of this man who had laid all that he was at my feet for so long while asking so little in return. 

He let out a long breath, and it only shook at the end. "Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say it?"

I say the first thing that pops into my head. "Thirteen years?"

When he threw back his head and laughed, I thought I had never heard anything so wonderful. He laughed until I couldn't help it and started to laugh too, and the tears turned to ones of mirth. "Nice of you to finally get around to it, Everdeen."

My cheeks flushed, but I grinned at him, suddenly so ridiculously over-the-top happy that I thought I might explode from it. "Effie once told me that the way to a man's heart is to let him chase you."

"Did she ever mention letting the man catch you?"

I pretended to think. "Hmmm. No. Okay, I guess I take it back."

Peeta raised an eyebrow. "Oh, do you? Because Effie's a known expert on men?"

"Oh, absolutely. I've put all of her advice to very good use," I said, and with the speed and grace that long years in the woods had given me, I slipped out of his arms, launched myself off of his lap and made what I thought was an excellent escape attempt. But Peeta, damn him, seemed once again to have an almost psychic ability to predict my every move. Before I could take two more breaths he was right on my heels, and rather than fleeing playfully up the stairs as I'd intended, I found myself pinned against the hallway wall instead.

"Going somewhere?" he asked quietly, a dangerous glint in his eye. 

I shook my head slowly, a throb beginning between my legs. 

"Good," he replied, slanting a kiss over my smiling mouth. "Because I want to discuss this whole 'taking it back' thing." He caught my lower lip with his teeth and bit down, just a little, and I inhaled sharply, and then let my breath out on a low moan. "That wouldn't be very nice of you." He thrust a hand into my hair and tugged lightly, which actually felt...amazing. When I let out another moan, he pulled a little harder, and this time my eyes rolled back. "Tell me."

I felt alive in every cell of my body. "I love you."

"I think this occasion deserves something special," he murmured, continuing the delicious pulling of my hair with his right hand while cupping my face gently with his left. "I did bring some test cakes home from the bakery - would that do?"

I shook my head.

"Katniss Everdeen, turning down cake. I never thought I'd see the day." And there it was...the wicked grin. "Maybe next time I'll just bring home the frosting," he said in a deceptively idle tone. "Then I could suck it off your nipples."

Suddenly I couldn't breathe.

"Or you could lick it off my cock."

I think about the face Peeta has presented to Panem, and wonder how shocked people would be to hear these things coming out of his mouth. I might be shocked myself, if I wasn't so turned on I thought I might die.

"I remember thinking you were so pure," he said, bringing his mouth close to my ear. Just the feeling of his breath has me dissolving even further. "But you like it when I talk like this." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

Peeta lowered his mouth to my neck, suckling just to the brink of pain, my hair still firmly in his grasp. "I can't wait to make love to you," he murmured against my skin, "but right now, all I can think about is fucking you."

How could he have so many words, while the only sounds I seemed capable of producing was a steadily louder and more guttural series of moans?

"But we're still waiting on that," he whispered in my ear.

"Why?" I managed. And then, because he is endlessly capable of surprising me, Peeta buried his face in my neck, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"I adore you," he said, capturing my mouth briefly. "I adored you before I knew you could be like this, and now..." he shook his head, and leaned in to touch his forehead to mine. "Katniss. You are so hot I can barely stand it." His hands slid around and grabbed my ass, and I wanted to beg him to take me right there, against the wall. "Going to the bakery is agonizing. Having you hunting is hell. I am so turned on, all day."

"Me too," I admitted.

"We're taking a day off soon, and we're not getting out of bed."

"Okay."

"But for now," he began, his voice swinging back into the lower, more deliberate tones that always made me wish he would just _fucking take me already,_ "I think I need to show you that running away from me isn't a good idea. Or maybe," he continued, his hands running up the sides of my body and coming to rest on my breasts, "I might need to show you how happy I am that you said you loved me." His fingers began to trace light circles around my nipples through my shirt, and they hardened immediately. "So which do you want--reward," and he licked his way up the side of my neck as his fingers continued their delicious circling, "or punishment?" On the last word, he fisted his hand in my hair again and pulled, hard.

Without a second's thought, I breathed, "Punishment."

His eyes snapped to mine, and I found myself drowning in the love and desire I saw there. "Go upstairs. I'm going to take the stew off the stove and put it in the oven to stay warm, because our mouths will be too busy to eat...food," he said, a grin twisting his lips for a moment before his face hardened again with control. "Take off your clothes, Katniss, and lay on our bed with a pillow under your hips." My mouth bone dry with lust, I nodded and turned to go, but he caught me by the shoulders and yanked me back. "Spread your legs and wait for me," he rasped in my ear, and I fled while I still had the ability to walk.

I made sure the bedroom windows were shut tight, and I pulled the shade down over the one closest to the bed. Then I undressed quickly with trembling fingers, nervous energy pulsing through me. I was pretty sure I knew what Peeta had in mind, and while I trusted him and loved him and was thoroughly, blindingly aroused by his desire to take control of our physical relationship, I had very little idea of what to expect from having his mouth between my legs.

I lay back on our bed and placed one pillow under my head and another under my hips. With a deep breath I spread my legs apart, rubbing my sweating palms dry on the blanket beneath me. As I heard Peeta's tread on the stairs, I thought of something Johanna once said to me:

_Trust me when I tell you that you want a tongue in your pussy as often as possible._

A sharp intake of breath brought my attention to the open door, where Peeta stood, shirt in hand. He dropped it to the floor and was unbuttoning his pants as he crossed the room and stood looking down at me. He kicked his pants to the side and his underwear soon followed, and then he stretched out next to me and hooked a leg over mine, and I could feel his cock rock-hard against my thigh.

Without a word he crushed his mouth to mine, fisting his hand in my hair again. Then he lifted his head and smiled down at me, and his face was filled with such love and joy that I caught my breath. "Can we just take a moment to talk about how much fun all of this is?"

I couldn't help it--I laughed. "You're just saying that because I'm letting you run the show," I teased. But he was right. We had been through several lifetimes of hell, and yet in the end, here we were--alive; (relatively) sane; together. We were free to love and explore one another in every way. They hadn't taken that from us.

And Peeta was right. This was the most fun I had ever had in my entire life. So I opened my mouth and told him so.

"To be fair, we don't have much to compare it to," he said. "More fun than the Arena? Check."

"More fun than having my body hair ripped off? Check."

"More fun than cleaning up Haymitch? Check." He pressed a kiss to my grinning mouth, and my breath soon strangled in my throat as it deepened. "I love that you trust me enough to follow my lead," he whispered, raising his head slightly. 

"So lead me, Peeta."

He bent his head again and ravaged my mouth for long minutes, his hands caressing my breasts, and then he began to move downward, trailing kisses down my neck and torso. When his head reached my thighs, I let out a shuddering breath. "Move up as far as you can," he directed. I wiggled up to the wall, rearranging the pillow under my head so that I had a clear view of him. He adjusted the pillow that was under my hips, nudged my calves until my knees were bent, and then stretched out on his stomach between my legs. He looked up at me then, and if eyes could actually set you on fire, surely I would have burst into flames then.

He lowered his eyes and stretched his hands up under my knees and to my hips, where they began a slow caress, and then I felt his tongue on me for the first time, and I was lost.

He licked my folds from the bottom to the top, just once, and let out a deep groan. He whispered my name, just once, and then his mouth was on me again, alternating long, agonizing licks with shorter laps. His nose just grazed my clit time and again, coming frustratingly close to rubbing but always falling short. My hips canted up of their own accord, trying to make firmer contact, but Peeta put a hand on each of my thighs and held me down. "Stop that," he commanded. "Punishment, remember?"

I remembered.

He returned to his task, and now for the first time, I felt him teasing my entrance with a finger. "You're dripping, Katniss," he murmured, brushing up and down between my folds. "I bet my cock would slide right in," he said, and when I moaned, he slipped just the tip of his finger inside. "I'd start just like this, just the tip, and then pull out," and he pulled his finger out. "I'd do that for awhile, just to make sure you really wanted me to fuck you," he said, mimicking his words with his fingers. "Even though I know you want me to fuck you," and finally, his whole finger slid in, and I couldn't help it; I ground down against his hand.

He pulled his finger out, and I wanted to scream in frustration.

"You don't get to come yet. You're going to beg me for it," he snapped, and I wanted to open my mouth and beg right then and there. But I'd chosen punishment, not reward, and I knew that if I rode out the experience, Peeta would give me both in the end.

With the fingers of his left hand, he spread apart the hood that surrounded my clit. He began to make slow circles around the area with his tongue, and even more slowly, he slid his right forefinger back inside of me. I could feel him curl it forward, and he agonizingly began to stroke me inside. I began to lose track of time as he fucked me with his fingers--at some point, a second and then a third had slipped in to join the first--and ravaged me with his mouth, sucking on my folds and clit and licking me everywhere. The orgasm I was dying for was just out of reach, and I was growing delirious with need.

All of a sudden his mouth and hand was gone, and my eyes flew open to find him moving back up my body. "I knew you might not come the first time," he said. "That we'd need to practice. I could try something else," he said, sliding his hand back down and slipping two fingers back inside me. The heel of his hand was flush against my clit and I bucked against it. "Or we could stop and take a nap," he said, pulling his hand away again.

"No," I moaned.

"Then beg."

What might have been humiliating anywhere else was suddenly the hottest thing I'd ever done. "Peeta, please...make me come," I gasped. "I need you...I need you to make me--" my voice broke off as he caught a nipple between his teeth. "I need you to make me come, please..."

"What will you do for me?"

"Anything!" I choked out as he moved to the other nipple.

I felt his smile against my breast. "Anything, hmmm?" In a fluid moment he covered my body with his and pinned my wrists above my head, bending to whisper in my ear. "Will you suck my cock?"

"Yes."

"Will you let me practice licking your pussy anytime I want?"

"Yes!"

"Will you let me fuck you until you scream?"

I opened my mouth to say yes, but only incoherent moaning came out. He wrapped a leg around mine and rolled so that I was on top, and then pulled at my hips until my clit was flush against the length of his cock. 

"Make yourself come."

I was pretty sensitive from everything he'd done--almost numb--but I began to rock back and forth against him, hitting my clit indirectly at first. I'd been close for so long, though, that it was barely a minute before I was grinding against his cock as my orgasm raced toward me and then shattered, pulling a near-shriek from my lips. I let my shaking arms give way and collapsed on top of him, breathing as hard as I did after a full-out run. 

He shifted me slightly to the left and gathered me close with that arm, while closing his right hand around his cock. I watched through half-lidded eyes as he stroked himself to a fast orgasm, his eyes rolling back in his head as he came all over his hand and stomach. When his breathing began to slow a little, he grabbed some tissue from the nightstand and wiped himself down, then tossed the tissue toward the trash and missed by several feet.

"Nice aim," I laughed. He turned back to me, eyebrows raised.

"Are you really going to mock me after all I just did for you?" He settled back next to me and pulled the top sheet up over both of us.

"Maybe a little." I nestled my head against his shoulder and he kissed me gently.

"That was so fucking hot," he said. "Expect to spend a lot of time lying on your back."

Despite everything, a jolt of desire still shot through me. There was something about the word "fuck" coming out of Peeta's mouth that made me want to...well, do just that. Maybe it was because I'd always thought of him as so...good? Wrong word. Innocent? That wasn't quite right. Obviously, he'd done that before--you aren't born knowing that sort of thing. 

The thought of Peeta's face between someone else's legs was not a pleasing one.

"Have you done that before?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He turned slightly red. "Um...Jo sent me a book on the last supply train."

Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "Oh, did she?" I pulled his mouth to mine, lazily tracing my tongue along his bottom lip to cover my extreme relief. 

"Katniss." His face turned serious, and he shifted upward, propping himself on an elbow and looking down at me. "I've never had sex with anyone. I've never had oral sex with anyone."

"Peeta, I know you dated girls in school--"

He laid a finger on my lips. "Sure I did, and I made out on the slag heap with a couple. I've done some touching. But I was waiting for everything else." He smiled. "Before the Games, I just wasn't ready to go that far with anyone. And after...well, after, I wasn't going to touch anyone as long as there was a chance I could eventually touch you."

"I'm s--"

His mouth cut me off, and he kissed me breathless. "No more apologizing. Do you love me now?" I nodded. "Are we laying naked in the same bed?" I nodded again. "It's all I've ever wanted, and now I have it. So no more telling me you're sorry, or I'll start thinking this is all just what Jo calls a 'pity fuck.'"

"She's so classy, our Jo."

"It's a good thing she's not," he said wryly, and kissed me again before throwing the sheet back and sitting up. At my sound of protest, he said, "I'm going to go fix a tray and bring it up, so we can eat before I try again." He padded over to the bathroom and grabbed his robe off the hook that hung inside the door. "Don't want to give Haymitch a show," he said, shrugging it on.

_Try...again?_

He waggled his eyebrows at me as his meaning sank in, and slipped out the door before I could say a word.

I had a phone call to make in the morning if I had any hope of keeping up with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to angylinni for being a rocking beta!
> 
> I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be. At least two--Katniss will reciprocate, and then there'll be a chapter where they actually do IT. But I am running out of stuff that you do first. I might need to do a sequel called "Everything Else" to encompass skinny dipping and bondage and the box of toys Jo wants to send them.
> 
> Or I could just take requests...


	6. In Which Johanna Helps Turn the Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Before I could lose my nerve, I brought my hands up to the belt of my robe, untied it, and shrugged the whole thing off onto the floor. I stood in place for a beat, watching his eyes widen as they roamed rapidly up and down my body. There was no chance of ever feeling self-conscious with Peeta; his gaze never held anything but worship when I was undressed before him. This was...a little different._

I was officially ridiculous, and it was--like everything lately--all Johanna's fault.

About two hours ago, I'd dialed the phone for the fourth time that day. I'd skipped the woods in favor of getting the advice I needed, but Johanna hadn't answered the first three times I'd called, and it was getting steadily closer to the time Peeta usually came home from town. I'm sure he knew what I was doing, but that didn't mean I wanted to have this conversation with him in the house.

On the ninth ring she finally answered.

 _"Let me guess. He got the book."_

_"Where the hell have you been all day?" I demanded._

_Johanna snorted. "I do have other things to do out here besides waiting around to hear if Peeta's tongue is as naturally talented as the rest of his mouth. Although, with the instructions I sent, any idiot with a tongue and a hand could make you squirm. So I'm imagining a bright boy like our baker might just have had some small success?"_

_I squeezed my thighs together, as just the mention of Peeta was now apparently enough to make me wet. "After three hours of practice," I replied, and was surprised to find myself grinning. I was rewarded for my honesty by Johanna's burst of laughter._

_"Oh, he's determined, is our Peeta," she said. "I'm guessing you're ready to reciprocate?"_

_I nodded, then remembered she couldn't see me. "It only seems fair. Plus," I muttered, "if I don't distract him somehow, I may never get anything done again."_

_Johanna laughed harder. "You can't tell me this surprises you. Katniss. He waited, what...eleven years just to kiss you? And now you're having a hard time believing that he wants to spend all of his time with his face buried in your pussy? It's like it's his birthday, and all of his presents are between your legs."_

_"You know, it's really hard to believe they didn't pick you to be the voice of the rebellion."_

_"Right?" I heard the scrape of a chair leg across a floor. "So. You want Auntie Jo's best tips on sucking cock. That's not going to take long; we have it way easier than they do. You could pretty much drool on it and he's going to come. But I'm guessing you want to blow the fuck out of his mind, so to speak?"_

_"Something like that." I think of the hours I spent last night, writhing under Peeta's tongue, and how raw my throat was when I screamed out his name when his mouth finally brought me to an orgasm that could only be described as earth-shattering. "I want to...surprise him."_

_"Sweetheart, just touching your lips to the tip of his cock's going to stun the hell out of him. But if you want to do better than that..."_

_"Yeah."_

_"I know what you need."_

_At that point, she directed me to start digging through the trunks of Cinna-designed apparel that sat unopened in the spare room. She was surprisingly gentle each of the times I had to stop, overcome by the feel of the fabrics and the loss of my friend all over again. She just talked to me about...nothing, really...until I pulled myself together enough to go on. And after I described at least two trunks worth of ensembles to her, she stopped me._

_"That's the one."_

_I held up the small pile of fabric and eyed it dubiously. "Jo, I don't know if I can get one of these on by myself. My prep team always--"_

_"You survived two Arenas, brainless--I think you can get through this."_

And that's how I came to be trying in vain to yank a torture device around my torso so that the front was actually in the front. It has a long row of hook-and-eye closures that made me long for Cinna's clever fingers all over again. The problem was that it was meant to be fastened up the back. I'd fastened it in front, and was now trying to twist it around the correct way.

I rethought the whole thing when I yanked too hard, knocked myself off balance, and crashed to the floor of our bathroom and knocked my head against the tub, half-in, half-out--I think?--of this damn contraption that Jo had insisted would knock Peeta flat. I was still lying there several minutes later when I heard the door open and close. I shook my head hard, startled into renewed action. I braced my feet on the floor and pushed myself over toward the door, stretching my hand up and locking the door.

"Katniss?" 

"Upstairs," I called. I pushed myself to a sitting position and examined the various pieces of the damned thing. Jo was right--I wasn't going to let it beat me.

As I attempted to wrestle the lingerie into submission, I heard Peeta's tread first on the stairs and then entering our room. A quiet squeak told me that he'd sat down on our bed, and then I heard the thunk of his boots as he dropped them to the floor. _Perfect._ I now realized I had part of the top on backwards and the leg holes mixed up, and once I'd twisted things around, I was in much better shape. I scrambled to my feet and flipped the lock open.

"I brought home some bread, and I thought we could have it with the leftover soup," he called from the bedroom. I peeked out of the cracked bathroom door, and saw that he was stripping off his pants. As he bent down to pull them off, I was afforded an absolutely spectacular view of his bare ass, and was temporarily dazzled into immobility. Despite all we'd been doing, I had only seen him completely naked once--last night--and I'd hardly been in the position to do a lot of looking. The burn scars were there, just as they were on my body, but Peeta was still beautiful. As he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into the laundry basket, I watched the muscles in his back and arms flex with each movement. It was actually...kind of mesmerizing.

Just another reason to be happy about the rebuilding.

I took my robe down from the back of the door and slipped into it, tying the belt tightly. I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and walked out of the bathroom as he peeled off his socks and tossed them toward his other discarded clothing. He turned and saw me, and his eyes lit up. "Hey there," he said, reaching for me. I could feel my cheeks burning, but he was completely comfortable in his nudity. I was as nervous as I'd ever been with him, and it must have shown in my face, because his brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

 _Yes? No? I have no idea?_ I didn't know what to say, so I reached up, grabbed his head, and crushed his mouth to mine. I could feel his surprise, but Peeta was too quick on his feet to not catch up quickly. One hand slipped down to cup my ass and pull me closer; the other twined into my hair. I'd left it down, thinking maybe he'd pull on it, and the thought had aroused me so much that I'd directed the shower spray onto my clit and come, hard. Now just the memory of that had me feeling bold, and I reached between us to grasp his cock in one hand.

"Katniss," he gasped. Peeta had touched and tasted me everywhere, but I had barely begun to explore him. An involuntary twitch of his hips had him thrusting into my hand, and the low moan in his throat sent a hard shiver through me. Johanna had told me to not be that gentle, and I'd paid attention when he'd masturbated in front of me, so I tightened my grip experimentally and moved my hand down the shaft.

Another moan, this one louder than the first.

"Sit," I murmured, my lips against the hard line of his jaw. I grazed the bone there with my teeth and reveled in the way his breath hissed out. He backed up a couple of steps until the back of his calves hit the end of our bed, and then sat, breathing hard. 

Before I could lose my nerve, I brought my hands up to the belt of my robe, untied it, and shrugged the whole thing off onto the floor. I stood in place for a beat, watching his eyes widen as they roamed rapidly up and down my body. There was no chance of ever feeling self-conscious with Peeta; his gaze never held anything but worship when I was undressed before him. This was...a little different.

I feel like I don't--or can't--give Peeta half of what he wants or deserves, but I can give him this. I can give him me. Johanna was, once again, right.

It was getting annoying.

Cinna apparently designed for a lot of occasions like this; one entire trunk is filled with lingerie and nightgowns that are definitely more for show than for warmth. He had made a lot of specialized lingerie for me to wear under formal dresses, because he never wanted his designs to be hampered by standard underclothes, so I'd worn a corset before, but this one...I could hardly believe I was actually wearing it, and not just because it took me over half an hour to get the damned thing ON. It was, thankfully, far more comfortable than it had looked when I first saw it. It was made of black silk, and unlike the other ones I'd worn, was far more constricting and firmly shaped. Peeta's eyes had settled on my breasts--which were almost entirely exposed. The corset thrust them outward and up, and just barely covered my nipples. I had wryly thought that it looked as if I were planning on serving them to him for dinner--and perhaps I was, at that.

Beneath the corset a scrap of black silk barely covered my... _pussy,_ (I was determined to use the words he did, the words that turned me on so much) and if I were to turn, he would see that absolutely nothing covered my ass--Jo told me that this triangle and string torture device was called a thong, and that I needn't worry about it being uncomfortable, as Peeta would most likely remove it with his teeth.

"Kat--"

I put my finger to my lips, and my name strangled in his throat. Swiftly I climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, and pressed my body to his. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, he slipped my right nipple from its covering and took it between his teeth gently. When I let out a low moan, he bit down harder, and the jolt of pain was delicious. His other hand came up to free the right side, and he rolled the nipple between thumb and forefinger even as he began to bathe the other with the flat of his tongue. I don't know how many minutes passed while he licked and sucked and bit me into near oblivion, but I found myself with both hands fisted in his hair, holding his face as close to my breasts as I could get it.

"Where--"

"Cinna."

His hands stilled and he looked right at me then, a look of concern overtaking his desire. "You went through the trunks? I should have been here--"

I leaned in and ran my tongue along his bottom lip and then traced the same path with my teeth before pulling back. "I'm okay. I was on the phone with Jo." When the concern didn't immediately vanish, I touched my forehead to his. "I'm okay, Peeta. Touch me."

He examined my face for a long moment, and then I watched the concern fade as he returned his attention to my breasts. I pressed my pelvis into his and we both groaned as I began to rub myself against his cock.

"If I'd known...it would be like this," he said against my breasts, breath coming harder, "I might have...been more forward on the train."

"Peeta..."

"Soon," he managed, breathing hard. "I can't wait much longer to fuck you," and slipped a hand between us and fingered me roughly. My body convulsed as he brushed my already swollen clit. I wanted much more contact than that, though, so I pushed his hand out of the way and shoved the front of the thong aside. He watched me, eyes heavily lidded, as I took his cock in my hand again and rubbed it between my folds and across my clit, spreading my wetness over both of us, and the feeling was so incredible that I wanted to pull him closer until he was buried inside me.

Just watching his cock moving against my pussy made me want to beg him to fuck me right then and there.

"Katniss..." there was a warning tone behind his gasp this time, and as his hips thrust toward me, I knew I couldn't continue to do that if I expected us both to keep waiting.

There was a sound of protest as I pushed off of him, but it quickly turned into the deepest groan I'd ever heard him produce when I dropped to my knees in between his legs. 

_The sight of you on your knees alone will drive him crazy._

His erect cock was right in front of me, the head glistening, and I put out my tongue and took a tentative lick. "Yes," was Peeta's almost inaudible whisper, and when I raised my eyes, they found his immediately. His stare was full of both lust and disbelief, and despite Johanna's assurances that it would be hard for me to make a mistake doing this with him, I was suddenly uncertain.

He would need to help.

I took his hand and moved it to the back of my head, shoving his fingers into my hair as best as I could. From his quick intake of breath, I knew he understood what I was asking. 

I reached an only-slightly-trembling hand out and grasped him gently at first, and then more firmly as he inhaled sharply.  He was almost dripping with moisture, and I realized that what I was tasting on him was me, and it tasted...amazing.

"That is...oh my God...so fucking hot," he rasped. "I've thought about having you down on your knees so many times. I couldn't wait to have your tongue wrapped around my cock," and his hand tugged at my hair the way I'd come to love--hard, and constantly. I licked him again, and again, around the head and down the shaft, unable to get enough of the way my juices tasted on him. I let my fingers slip along the underside and down to cup his balls gently. He let me experiment for awhile, and I could tell from his breathing and occasional glances upward what was working. 

His hand was continually twining and re-twining in my hair, but after a couple of minutes I felt it twist and he pulled my head up. "Suck my cock." 

A violent shiver ran through me at the verbal sign that Commanding Peeta had arrived.

I hesitated briefly. I was ready, and Johanna had given me instructions in graphic detail, but there was no denying my nervousness. I glanced up at him and was briefly lost in the desire and love on his face, and he saw that I needed a push. He pulled sharply on my hair and positioned his cock right at my mouth.

"Now, Katniss."

His sharp tone started a rapid throbbing between my legs. I took a shallow breath, heart pounding, and opened my mouth to let him slip inside.

The sound he made...was one I will never forget.

It was awkward at first, and I gagged more than once before I remembered what Jo had said about using my hand and my mouth together. She was also right that it didn't seem to matter what I did, at least this first time--Peeta's head was thrown back and his jaw was clenched, although he never took his eyes off what I was doing. 

"You look...so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth." The end of his sentence was strangled in a groan, but Peeta had never let anyone keep him from saying what he wanted to say. "Gonna--oh _God,_ Katniss--gonna fuck you so hard, in your mouth, in your pussy, in your--" The sounds he was making had me so turned on that in that moment, I would have done anything he asked me to.

My mouth and hand moved faster; I couldn't get enough of the feeling of empowerment that came from making him feel this way. It wasn't very much longer before I felt him growing harder in my mouth, and he took hold of my hair and pulled out. I wanted to finish what I'd started, though, and wrapped my hand around him. Fewer than ten strokes later he came with a shout of my name, hot bursts of semen hitting his stomach and dripping over my hand. He collapsed backwards on his elbows, breathing like he'd been running hard.

I examined my dripping hand, and touched the tip of my tongue to it briefly. His eyes were riveted to my mouth, and his cock twitched despite the powerful orgasm he'd just had. Holding his gaze, feeling sexier than I'd ever dreamed I could feel, I licked and sucked his come from my fingers as he murmured almost inaudible words of encouragement punctuated by moans.

When I'd finished, I felt a small smile curve my lips. "Come in my mouth next time."

He groaned and fell back the rest of the way. "You are going to kill me."

"You'll die happy, though," I said, grabbing my robe and cleaning him up with the sleeve. I tossed it back to the floor and went to curl up next to him, feeling very self-satisfied, but he stopped me.

"Your turn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Er...sorry about that. I promise chapter 7 will...uh...come faster.)
> 
> This one's definitely for angylinni again, for being the Best Beta Ever (as well as a Queen of smut); for my new Tumblr friends; and for the writers whose hotness spurred me onward, especially misshoneywell and alexabeewrite.


	7. In Which Johanna Becomes a Player

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I don't want Peeta to have sex with Johanna. I'm pretty certain I'd kill them both in the most violent way possible. Exactly one person was going to have sex with Peeta Mellark, ever, and that person was going to be me._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _But I was desperate to hear his fantasy._

It's a beautiful afternoon when I decide to walk into town, bring Peeta some lunch, and see the bakery. He'd been inviting me for a couple of weeks, but I'd only been into town a few times since returning to 12 and none of the trips had been particularly pleasant. Since we'd escalated our relationship, though, I'd regained some of my previous courage--as if allowing myself to love Peeta fully, with everything that I am, was truly the secret to healing.

We hadn't had the best week. A couple of days of rain had trapped us again, but this time, the endless gloom shoved me down into a funk that took about a day and a half to surface from. Peeta had woken from a nightmare the following day and fallen into a flashback. It wasn't a terrible one, but he'd shoved me away from him and done a bit of his "Katniss is a mutt" routine until I began to sing, softly, which almost always brought him back. These two incidences had made us awkward with one another again, and I didn't like it. I know Peeta didn't either, but he'd spent the last three days rising early and coming home late. Between this and my escaping to the woods to hunt, we hadn't had much time to right things.

We'd hardly touched in six days, which was foreign to me now.

I thought a surprise visit might help, so I stayed home from the woods and gathered my courage. I left my hair down and put on a soft green dress that Peeta particularly liked. After packing up some meat and cheese and filling a bottle with cold water, I strap on my boots and head for the center of town.

I've only been walking for about ten minutes when I round a bend...and there he is. The sun is bright, and he's bathed in it, and he's so beautiful. I don't know why I'm surprised; we're so well attuned to one another that I should have expected to meet him along the path. I stop and let him approach me. His face is serious.

"Peeta, what's wrong?"

He takes the basket from my hand, sets it on the ground, and pulls me toward him. I tuck my head into his neck, and his arms slip around my back and we just stand there for awhile, wrapped in one another. "I'm so happy to see you," he murmurs.

"Me too."

"I was really hungry."

I pull back and see his eyes twinkling down at me. I take a swat at his chest. "You just want me for my food."

He grabs my hand and kisses my fingertips. "Katniss, I've had your cooking. I think we both know that isn't true." He cuts off my bark of outraged laughter with a light kiss, and then touches his forehead to mine.

"I'm sorry," I say simply.

"Me too."

"Do you want to go back to the bakery and have lunch? I thought it would be a good day for me to see it."

"I actually told the crew I wouldn't be back today. Do you mind seeing it another day?" he bends his head and kisses me again. "I've missed being at home with you."

He picks the basket up off the ground and takes my hand, and we walk slowly home together.

Once we're in my kitchen, Peeta opens the basket and starts poking around inside and muttering to himself. "There's some dough in the refrigerator...chop this...oh, there's some onion in the drawer, I think..."

I stare at him, completely unsurprised but also slightly annoyed. "Is what I packed not good enough for lunch?"

Peeta looks up from the basket, drops the meat he's holding and steps over to me. "It was perfectly fine for eating at the bakery, since the electricity's still iffy there, but wouldn't you rather have something warm?" He cups my face in his hands and kisses me, long and deep. I feel a stirring within me that has nothing to do with hunger for food. A six day hiatus from physical affection has been harder than I might have been willing to admit before. I stand still for a moment, then slide my hands down to cup his ass.

"I would, actually."

His eyes light up at my words and the flirtatious tone I've used. He kisses me again, taking a firm hold on my hips and pulling me into him. I can feel his growing erection, and I can't stifle my moan. He pulls back slightly, however, and then startles me by putting his hands at my waist and boosting me up onto the counter.

"Now, Miss Everdeen, you're going to need a little patience. I have some plans for us, and to properly experience them, we're both going to need a good, hearty meal. I can have a meat pie in the oven in fifteen minutes, and we'll be eating it within the hour. After that there will be plenty of time for whatever dirty little thing you're thinking of." My jaw drops open and I move to jump off the counter, but he puts both of his hands on my knees to still me. "I don't think I told you to get down, Katniss," he snaps, and I can feel myself growing wet. His hands slide up my legs slowly, and I begin to tremble the closer his hands get to my panties. "I've told you the plan for lunch. Now, if you can be good, you can sit here, or you can leave the room if you think you can't behave."

And he pushes a finger into me fast and hard.

"I'll go read for awhile," I croak. He gives me a small smile, and pulls his finger out of me excruciatingly slowly. Then he lifts it to my mouth, saying, "Clean me off."

I take his finger into my mouth and taste the sharp tang of my juices on his skin. Holding his gaze boldly, I swirl my tongue around his finger like I would around his cock, then suck on it for a long moment before pulling back slowly and letting it fall from my mouth with a pop. 

"Well, I know what you'll be having after lunch," Peeta says with a grin, rubbing himself through his pants.

I flee to the living room, not trusting myself a moment longer. His low chuckle follows me out of the room.

About forty minutes later, he calls that lunch is just about ready. I toss my book aside--it's an incredibly tacky romance novel that Effie sent on the last train, but I've run out of reading material--and walk into the kitchen. I am greeted by one of the finest sights the world has to offer: Peeta Mellark's ass, right in front of me, as he bends to pull the pie out of the oven. Life had been hell for me for a very long time, but as a partial reward, I think, I was given this incredibly beautiful man to gawk at. The way his pants cling to him, the way his muscles pop as he bends and straightens--well, let's just say it has become one of my favorite things to look at. I can't help it; a little moan escapes my throat.

Peeta spins around quickly, almost dropping the pie in the process, before catching himself and setting it down on the counter. He raises an eyebrow. "Like what you see?"

I nod, knowing better than to answer. Wicked Peeta's smile flashes across his face. "You'll see more of it soon enough."

We manage to make it through lunch, letting small talk keep some of the sexual tension at bay, though by the end of the meal it's all I can do not to yank down his pants and drop to my knees in front of his chair. We have an unspoken agreement to let the dishes wait, and he takes my hand and leads me up the stairs, into the bedroom and over to the bed, Pulling me down to sit next to him. I glance at him with a rueful smile. "I can't believe it's been five days since..." I trail off because Peeta's face suddenly flushes red. My mouth falls open slightly; I don't know why, but it hadn't occurred to me to question this fact. "Maybe it hasn't been five days for both of us, hmmm?"

He shrugs and smiles a little sheepishly. "I woke up in the middle of the night last night. Couldn't fall back to sleep. Sometimes it helps."

An image of Peeta with his cock in his hand pops into my head, and I feel my pussy twitch. However, I also feel...I'm not sure. Mad? Jealous? I can feel my brow crinkle, and Peeta spots it right away. "Katniss. Are you upset?"

I shake my head. I'm not upset, exactly. I don't know how to articulate what I'm feeling.

"It doesn't mean I don't want you. It doesn't mean I didn't want you then. I just...things were so strained this last week, and it's the first time they'd been like that since all this started." He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and takes one of mine in the other, shaking his head a little. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have told you? But I don't want to keep things like that from you."

"Is it...normal, I guess...to still do that when you're being intimate with someone?" my cheeks burn as I manage to get the question out, staring down at our entwined hands.

Peeta laughs a little. "I have no idea. Remember this is all new to me too? But I've done it every day for weeks." When I look up at him, startled, he laughs again, but this time, he sounds slightly uncomfortable. "Working on the bakery's pretty boring when I'm by myself. I start thinking. And the last few weeks, I've had a lot to think about. It's hard to work when I'm hard all the time, so I end up in the bathroom. Sometimes twice."

I'm surprised, but I'm not sure if it's because of his admission, or by how wet I am getting picturing him masturbating in the makeshift bakery bathroom.

"What do you think about?" I ask, my voice coming a little hoarsely out of my suddenly dry throat. His face flushes again, and he drops my gaze briefly. "Peeta?"

"I used to think about kissing you, and about what your breasts would feel like, and sometimes, when I was very ambitious, I would think about making you come with my hands or my mouth."

"Used to?" he nods silently. I'm not used to Reticent Peeta. "What aren't you telling me?"

"It's different, Katniss, and I don't want you to think it says anything negative about us." 

What is he talking about?

Peeta pulls me closer to him and slants his mouth over mine, kissing me breathless. "I want you. I want you all the time. Every minute. I can hardly think of anything else. I paint the bakery walls and I think about being inside of you. I think about all of the things we've done and all of the things we have waiting for us to try."

"Okay..." I still have no idea where he is going.

"And every once in awhile...I imagine something that I know isn't going to happen. Something I don't even really want to happen. It just adds to the fantasy." When I raise my eyebrows at him, he takes a deep breath, puts his lips next to my ear, and murmurs, "Sometimes I imagine you, and me...and Jo."

I feel myself freeze in his arms. He keeps talking, babbling really, about how he doesn't actually want to have sex with Jo; that he's had this fantasy before, but the other girl was always sort of identity-less, but since she's been giving us so much advice...

He's talking and talking, but I'm just sitting there, silent.

Because I cannot believe how suddenly turned on I am. 

I don't want Peeta to have sex with Johanna. I'm pretty certain I'd kill them both in the most violent way possible. Exactly one person was going to have sex with Peeta Mellark, ever, and that person was going to be me.

But I was desperate to hear his fantasy.

"Are you okay?" he was asking. I raise my eyes to his and stare at him for a long moment. 

And then I fall backward on the bed and pull him over on top of me, fusing our mouths together and clamping his thigh between my legs. He doesn't even need five seconds to catch up. His hands are everywhere, and I'm rocking my clit up against his leg, and it's barely a minute later before he's biting my lower lip as I come with a shout.

"Want me to tell you about it?" he breathes along my neck.

"Yes," I manage, trying to drag his shirt over his head. At some point we would slow down, Peeta and I. At some point, he'd make love to me. But that time was not now. Now we were frantic for one another. I thought it would be a miracle if we made it through the next hour without breaking down and fucking one another into next week. "God, _yes,_ Peeta. Now."

He yanks his shirt off and helps me slip out of my dress. A now-practiced twist with his fingers has my bra sliding off of my shoulders and my breasts spilling into his waiting hands. Then he pushes me back down on the bed, sliding his hands along my arms before taking my wrists in his hands and pinning them above my head firmly in the way I have come to love.

"I imagine that she's come to stay with us for a few days, and because the guest room is right down the hall, we've been quieter than usual," he whispers, and I can hear in his voice that he's a little nervous. He takes my lips in a long kiss and our tongues tangle together until I'm gasping.

"Tell me, Peeta."

He takes a deep breath, and then continues, his voice thick with desire. "But I want her to hear us, and I wonder if she'll lay down the hall and touch herself to the sound of our fucking. So I decide to make you scream."

I groan. I don't know how he thinks of these things, but I love that he does.

"We're laying here like this, your breasts pressed to me, my cock rubbing your pussy through your panties. I'm hitting your clit with every stroke, and you're biting your lip to stay quiet, but it's not working. You're already begging me to fuck you when I feel a pair of hands slip around your wrists right next to mine. 'If I can hear the show, I want to watch it,' she says. And then I watch as she lowers her mouth to yours and you kiss, inches from my face. I've never seen you kiss anyone, and watching you kiss her has me just about exploding. "'Although maybe,' she says, coming up for air and raising an eyebrow at me, 'you'd like to watch us instead.'"

I've never fantasized about being with a woman before; I'd barely even fantasized about being with Peeta before we were actually together. But at the thought of kissing someone, touching someone...a woman...Johanna...while Peeta watched, my mouth was bone-dry and my heart was about to pound out of its chest.

"She's completely naked, and she strips your nightgown off of you." He hooks his fingers into my underwear and pulls them off, tossing them to the floor. "Then she tells me to sit back and enjoy the show, so I lay back against the pillows and wrap my hand around my cock." He rolls to the side long enough to tug off his pants and underwear, and then he's wrapped around me, his cock rock-hard against my thigh. His mouth is right next to my ear, and his right hand slips down between my legs.

"The two of you kneel in front of me," he says, slipping a finger into me. He moves it in and out slowly while he talks. "You're kissing her, and you're letting out these hungry moans. She's got both of her hands on your breasts, and she's rubbing and pinching your nipples. She pulls away from your mouth and begins to kiss her way down your neck. Your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed, and soon her mouth closes around your nipple. You cry out and grab her head, and I tell her to bite you. When her teeth close over you, your moans get even louder." 

Peeta's got two fingers pumping in and out of me now, and though his steady rhythm suggests a level of calm, I can hear how fast he's breathing. He is anything but calm. He is coming undone, and I've barely touched him. It makes me wonder what else he thinks about, and I shiver at the realization that if he's willing to tell me this, he'll certainly  tell me more.

"Your hands slowly come around from her back to her breasts, and you start to touch her there. It's one of the hottest things I've ever seen, and I can't help it--I come right then and there, all over my stomach and chest. 'Clean him up,' Jo tells you, and you slide over to me and lick every drop from my skin while Jo watches and rubs your ass." I'm so close now that I'm pretty sure the last few minutes have been one continuous moan. When I move my hand toward my clit, Peeta shoves it aside and starts to make hard, tight circles on it with his thumb. 

"No!" he bites out. "That's my job. If you're a good girl, I make you come. Are you going to be a good girl, Katniss?" 

I nod.

His fingers still. _"Say it."_  

His demand has my hips jerking upward. "I'll be good...I'll be a good girl!"

"If..."

"If you make me come," I cry out. "Please, Peeta!"

He loves nothing better than to make me beg, but he always gives me what we both want. His thumb starts to move again and his fingers are curling inside me now, stroking me into oblivion. "Yeah...come on, that's it...come for me, Katniss," he croons into my ear, nipping at the lobe with his teeth. "Don't worry...I've got more to tell you...gonna make you come so many times tonight..." I'm so desperate to come at this point that the past five days seem like fifty, and the dirty things he's whispering in my ear are driving me crazy. "I'm gonna come in your mouth tonight, just like you want...I jerked off this afternoon thinking about it," And with that, I spasm under his fingers, gasping into the kiss he uses to stifle my scream. I think that he'll move his hand and let me calm down a bit, but the fire blazes even hotter when I realize he has no intention of stopping his steady fucking of my pussy with his fingers.

Or the story. 

I'm having a hard time filling my lungs with air, but if he stops, I may die.

"When you're finished, she pulls you to her and you start making out again. She's got her fingers in your pussy now, and you're pinching her nipples and sucking at her neck. I'm hard again already, and after a few more minutes, Jo pulls back from you and looks at me. 'Your girl's going to eat pussy, Mellark, and you're going to fuck her while she does it.' She lays back on the bed and bends her knees and waits for you. You look over to make sure it's okay with me, and then you take your hands and spread her apart, and as you lower your mouth down to her clit, I slide my cock into your tight pussy from behind. I'm fucking you slowly while I watch you licking her." Peeta slides a third finger into me, and starts to mimic his words. "You're making those broken moans in the back of your throat, and your tongue is moving so fast, like her pussy is the greatest thing you've ever tasted. She's got your hair in her hands and she's pulling on it like I do, and she's telling me to fuck you harder." His voice is hoarse now, and he's gasping between phrases, but he's showing no signs of slowing down.

"I'm slamming into you so hard now that my balls are slapping against your ass, and you're licking her like you might die if you stop. You slide your hands under her and lift her pussy closer to your mouth and she's starting to scream," he rasps, and slides down to mimic his words. He sucks my clit into his mouth and I realize the keening wail I hear is coming from me. "She's screaming, you're making her scream with your mouth," he manages as my hips buck against his face. "I can't believe how much you like licking pussy, can't believe what a slut you are." My orgasm tears through me, like his words. I can feel him smile against my thigh as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of me.

"Oh, you like that. You like when I call you a slut."

"Yes," I gasp.

"Whose slut are you, Katniss?" he asks this with a flick of his thumb against my clit that tells me I may actually never stop coming.

"Yours," I choke out.

He slides up my body, capturing a nipple between his teeth and biting down, hard, his hand never slowing. "Whose?"

I fist my hands in his hair and move him to my other breast, longing for the same treatment there. "Yours!" I shout. The room is spinning, and I feel like coherence and sanity have abandoned me. 

"That's right, you are," he pants, licking his way up to my neck and biting down as he goes. "Jo's coming on your tongue, and I reach around and pinch your clit until you're screaming, too," and his fingers thrust back into me. His fingers are fucking me mercilessly again, and I know it's only a matter of minutes before I fall back over the edge. "I pull out of you and you're begging me not to stop, you want my big cock so fucking much, but we've got other plans for you."

My eyes must be wild; I feel like I've been coming for hours. I can't even use words at this point. The only thing that comes out of my mouth is a gutteral, animal sound.

"Jo slips down the bed until her mouth is right under your pussy. You're so wet it's running down your thighs, and she starts cleaning you up with long laps of her tongue. But you want her mouth on you so much you start begging her, so she puts her hands up and helps you lower yourself down onto her face." He ravages my mouth for a long moment, fingers still working me hard, before he abruptly pulls his hand away. "Get on your knees." 

Dizzily I lurch up from the bed on trembling hands and fumble my way to a kneeling position. He slides backwards and up so his back is against the headboard. "I move to the top of the bed like this, and while she devours your pussy, you bend over and start to suck me off."

And I do.

Peeta held himself back last week when I did this, but not tonight. I've wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, so he can only get so deep into my mouth, but he's thrusting up into me and I can't get enough of him. 

"I...unngh...I fuck your mouth so hard, and I can see your hips bucking as you come on her tongue, over and over," he manages to get out, but I can feel that telling me his fantasy has him coming undone. His hands are tangled into my hair, and his cock feels harder than ever in my mouth. After a long series of moans he abandons the story completely. "Oh, God, yeah...that's it...you suck my cock so good," and I cannot get enough of the way he talks to me. I'm moaning almost as loud as he is, and I reach down and start working my clit while he thrusts in and out of my mouth. "Never...never thought you'd like... _fuck yeah, Katniss, that's it_...sucking cock so much..."

His hands fist in my hair so hard I see stars, and they explode everywhere as the words and the hair and his cock shove me over the edge one last time. "Oh...oh, fuck...fuck...I'm c--fuck, I'm coming!" His hips go rigid as his cock shoots hot semen down my throat. I gag a little at first and then swallow quickly, but not quickly enough to keep some of it from spilling out of my mouth and running down my chin. I keep him in my mouth as he continues to spasm, draining every drop of come from his cock. It's not entirely pleasant, but when I sit back, feeling the wetness on my chin, and see the way he's looking at me...I decide I can certainly put up with it for him.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "Do you have other fantasies like that?"

He nods, the last of the trembling still working its way through him. 

I feel my lips curve into a smile. "I want to hear every single one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole damn thing's for angylinni at this point, because she's helped make each chapter hotter. I'm also grateful for the encouragement and community and inspiration I find on tumblr, a site I almost understand now. I'm msdisdain428.tumblr.com.
> 
> The next chapter will be the last in this story. At some point, though, I will most likely write a sequel, EVERYTHING ELSE. If our torrid twosome haven't gotten down in the way you've imagined, leave me a wish list here or at tumblr. I'll do my best to work it in.


	8. In Which Johanna Makes a Decree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Make it a surprise. I can do this. Even though I'd never done anything like I was about to do. In fact, the day was going to be filled with things I'd never done before, so I needed to get it together, because I wasn't going to be able to do them if I felt like I was going to vomit from nervousness. And I wanted to do them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't expect to go almost four months between updates, and I am sorry for it!

"Enough now, Brainless. It's time to fuck him."

I could feel my cheeks growing hot as I always did when Johanna and I talked about intimate subjects on the phone. It was even worse since Peeta shared his threesome fantasy with me last week--she'd called the three days following and I hadn't even been able to pick up the phone. I was sure she'd be able to tell that I was still thinking about the story he'd spun for me, and that even a flash of his words was enough to make me wet--so I'd avoided her until she'd left a message threatening to call Haymitch to find out if we were dead.

"But..."

"No more buts. You've done all the buts you're going to do. Unless..." I could almost see the smile spreading over her face. "Unless you want him to fuck your ass first."

"What? No!" I knew people did that, but it still didn't seem like a very good idea to me. "I don't think I want him to do that at all, let alone first."

She chuckled. "Oh, you want him to do it. Or you will, anyway. But whatever--that can wait. It's time to stop playing around and get the sex over with."

"You make it sound fantastic."

"Look. If you wait too long, it'll start to get weird. Like you're avoiding it. And there's lots of other stuff to get to that doesn't necessarily work as well without the penis-vagina activity."

"I'm guessing you're going to tell me what that is?"

"Lucky girl, I'm not only going to tell you--I'm going to send you supplies. Take a wheelbarrow or something to the next train."

"A wheelbarrow?"

"It's going to be a lot of stuff."

I was both intrigued and terrified. 

"And make the sex a surprise."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because if you don't, he's going to get into some revoltingly over the top romantic headspace and feel like he's got to make the whole thing perfect. And it's not going to be perfect. You might not get off, and it might hurt a little. It's definitely going to be awkward, at least at first, especially since neither one of you has done it before. There'll be plenty of time for him to scatter flower petals and shit; this isn't it."

I thought about that for a minute. Peeta would want to make it perfect, and she could see the two of them getting overly caught up in that. Jo was, as usual, right. "Okay. A surprise."

"Oh--make sure you prime the pump before you spring it on him."

"Prime...the pump?"

She sighed. "Honestly, it's like teaching schoolchildren. Suck him off first, jerk him off, whatever; then he'll last longer when you actually do it. I'm sure he's doing it during the day, but you need him to do it right before you want to fuck him. It'll help him not go off the second he's inside."

I honestly couldn't believe the phone conversations I had now. 

"Are you getting your shots?"

She and Peeta had both received injectable birth control twice a year since first going to the Capitol for the Games. "Yes."

"Then you're ready."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"Hey. Katniss." Johanna's voice was softer and more serious. "You're ready. It's time." 

"What if..." I trailed off. She just waited for me. "What if I'm not good at it?"

Jo laughed, like I'd been afraid she would, but it wasn't a mean laugh. That was one of the best things about her, actually--she was horrible, most of the time, but she knew when you needed her to turn it off and be real. "That's what practice is for." When I was silent again, she let out a little incredulous laugh. "Kat. Is everything else good now? I mean physically."

"Yeah." She deserved more than that, so I added, "Really good."

"Then stop worrying. This is just one more thing. I know it seems like the actual act of intercourse is IT, but you've already been more intimate with Peeta than some couples ever are. Just take this like any other suggestion I've made, okay?"

"Okay."

~

Prime the pump, I thought as I walked nervously to town. Make it a surprise. I can do this. Even though I'd never done anything like I was about to do. In fact, the day was going to be filled with things I'd never done before, so I needed to get it together, because I wasn't going to be able to do them if I felt like I was going to vomit from nervousness. And I wanted to do them.

I couldn't believe how much I wanted to do them.

We had put each other back together, Peeta and I. Not entirely, and maybe not for always; pieces of us were still missing, and we might never get them back. But ultimately, no matter what they did to us, they couldn't separate us entirely. It was almost impossible to believe that I'd once felt trapped and smothered by this relationship that now kept me alive. Once I'd thought of love as something that ruined you, but loving Peeta--and letting him love me--had only changed me for the better.

When the new bakery building came into view, I stopped walking for a minute to take a few deep breaths. Before I could lose my courage, I walked the rest of the way swiftly and pulled open the back door. "Peeta?" I pulled the door closed behind me and locked it.

"Hey!" his voice rang out, surprised and pleased, from outside of the kitchen. He appeared through the swinging door, a wide smile stretching across his face. "I thought you were going hunting!"

I shrugged. "I slept in instead."

"Good for you." He crossed to me and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on my lips. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." I reached up and wound my arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to mine. I deepened the kiss immediately, licking at his bottom lip and letting one of my hands drop down to his ass. It never took Peeta much time to catch up, so he had one hand on a breast and the other shoved into my hair when he finally pulled back, breathless. 

"Let's go home."

"You had a lot of things on your list to do today," I murmured.

"Who cares? I just moved "get Katniss naked" to the top of it."

"Where was I falling on the list before now?" I asked, moving my hand away from his ass and rubbing his cock through his pants. I could feel how hard he was growing, which was good news for my plan.

"Ahh--" his words strangled in his throat for a moment. "Um...seventh. And tenth."

"Ambitious," I grinned at him, and busied my fingers with the button on his pants. "I think you can keep me there. You can add something else to the top of the list." I pulled the zipper on his pants down.

"What are you--"

I laid a finger on his lips. "Shut up, Peeta." I hooked my fingers around his pants and underwear and yanked them down, falling to my knees as they pooled around his ankles. 

"What if someone--"

"Figure out a good story," I said, scooting so my back was against the bottom of the counter and pulling on his hips so he slid closer to me. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I opened mine at the same time, and when I closed my lips around his tip, the only noise he made was a long groan.

I took that to mean approval, and bent to what had become one of my favorite things to do.

There was both power and powerlessness in sucking Peeta's cock, and I reveled in both. When I had him in my mouth, he was mine entirely. I could ask anything of him and he'd give it to me. He'd do that anyway, but there was a more desperate quality to everything when we were like this. He was usually the aggressor in our sexual relationship--which was the opposite of our usual relationship--but when I was licking and sucking up and down his shaft, the upper hand was always mine.

And I gloried in it.

At the same time, though, there was something incredibly submissive about being on my knees before him. I'd never submitted to anyone, ever, but in our bedroom everything was different. Even though Peeta was happy to have me go down on him in any position, I preferred this one. I wanted, as I so often did, the sensation of him taking me. Possessing me. I wanted the hardness of the floor digging into my knees; his hands shoved roughly into my hair, holding my head in place; and his cock thrusting into my mouth.

Judging from the increasing speed of his orgasms over the last few weeks, I'd gotten really good at it.

As I relaxed my throat and stilled my mouth so he could thrust, I looked up at him and our eyes locked. His face, as always, was filled with a mixture of lust and love and awe. He twined his hands into my hair and thrust forward, and I curled my tongue along the underside of him every time he pulled back out. He was groaning so deep within his chest that he trembled with it. He thrust into me a few more times before pulling my head back a little. We had a whole series of instinctual signals by this time, and I let him slide most of the way out of my mouth so I could lick my way around the head of his cock.

Normally by this point a stream of dirty commentary would be spilling out of him, but I'd taken him completely by surprise and he seemed to have lost all power of speech. I brought a hand up to cup his balls, pulling at them gently as I worked my mouth up and down his length. He was letting out one continuous moan at this point, and I could feel him growing even harder. The last week or so he'd started to pull out and come on my breasts, which he thought was one of the hottest things I'd ever let him do--another Johanna suggestion, of course--but since I was fully clothed this time, I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and began to work him with my mouth quickly and steadily.

"Katniss..." he groaned as a warning, but my only response was to begin a low hum in the back of my throat that I knew would help him fall over the edge. Despite not becoming any more fond of the taste, I'd gotten much better at swallowing, so when his shout echoed around the kitchen, I was able to take in every drop he shot into my mouth.

"Fuck," he gasped, half-collapsing against the counter. I slid away to the side and climbed to my feet, a self-satisfied smile stretching the corners of my mouth. I then bent down and pulled up his clothes, fastening his pants as he turned toward me on shaky legs. "That was..."

"A preview of numbers seven and ten?"

Peeta shoved his hands back into my hair and ravaged my mouth, practically pushing me backwards onto the counter. By the time he let me back up, I was gasping too.

"Absolutely," he said, his hands straying to my breasts. With some effort I extracted myself and stepped back.

"What's left on the list before you can come home?" I asked.

"Four through six," he said, grabbing my waist and pulling me back to him, hard. "But they can really wait," he said, lowering his mouth to my neck and biting down gently. "How about I make 3.5 'returning the favor'?" He gripped my waist more firmly and lifted me from the ground, then turned and set me on the counter and began to assault my neck with his lips and teeth. 

"Peeta--" 

"Now it's your turn to shut up, Katniss. I want to taste you," he breathed against my skin, and my resolve began to crack. "It's been such a long time."

I choked out a laugh. "It's been--um--it's been about twelve hours."

"Too long," and he slid both of his hands underneath my skirt and up my thighs. "Let me," he crooned, teasing at the edges of my panties and shoving his tongue back into my mouth.

I let out a moan and started to pull back to say yes, when I heard the door swing open. 

"Hey, Peeta, I've got that--sorry! Sorry!" I heard the quick backward shuffle of feet and the door swinging closed again. "I'll be back in a bit! Hey, Katniss!"

Thom's feet moved across the outer bakery floor and then the outer door slammed shut. Peeta and I gaped at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing, our foreheads leaning together. After we'd gotten our breath back, he helped me down off the counter and I straightened myself out.

"I'll see you for number seven," I said. He moved to kiss me goodbye but I jumped back. "You can't be trusted."

His mock look of outrage had me giggling as I backed up to the door, unlocked and opened it, and fled.

~

I tried really, really hard to relax at home. It didn't work.

I took my bow into the woods and shot at things until I was exhausted and loaded down with game. That didn't work either.

When, after cleaning the game, the kitchen, and the living room and putting a pot of stew on to simmer I still couldn't relax, I looked at the clock and decided I had enough time before Peeta came home to take a long, hot shower. On my way through the bedroom I forced myself to ignore the rumpled bed sheets and the pile of discarded pajamas on the floor. Even though I was doing a terrible job of it, I was trying really hard to not overthink anything.

I did close the windows, just in case I forgot later.

I was shampooing my hair for the second time when I heard the bathroom door open. I could see Peeta's shadow through the clouded glass. "I'll be out in a minute," I called.

The shower door opened, revealing a very naked and already half-hard Peeta. "Thanks for taking care of the 'getting you naked' part for me," he grinned, stepping inside and sliding the door closed again. 

I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the water temperature. I broke out in goosebumps everywhere, and my nipples hardened under his gaze. "Hey," I managed.

His grin stretched wider. "Hey," he mocked. I swatted at him with one soapy hand but he grabbed it and pulled me to him. "Thought you might want some help with the washing." He kissed me lightly, and then turned me around and moved me back under the spray. His hands began to gently massage the soap from my hair, and I closed my eyes in pleasure. His hands worked their way through my hair far longer than necessary, and I wasn't surprised when they began to move downward. His lips followed the path his fingers traced on my neck.

One hand disappeared from my skin briefly, and then I felt the soap sliding over my back. He nimbly worked several knots from my shoulders before hands and soap slid around front, and soon enough my nipples were slipping between his fingers. Each pull sent waves of desire surging through me, and my heart was pounding.

"You're very dirty," he murmured.

I tried, I really did, but I couldn't help it--I burst out laughing. His hands stilled immediately and when I turned to face him, the look of false hurt on his face had me laughing even harder. "These are my best lines!" He couldn't keep a straight face, though, and soon we were both cracking up.

And just like that, I wasn't nervous anymore. 

I stood there, grinning at him like an idiot. 

"What?"

I reached out and took the soap from him. "You're dirty too," I said, soaping up my hands. He groaned as I took ahold of him, and then pinned me against the wall, behind the spray. 

"Your turn," he rasped, lifting one of my feet up to the soap dish and then spreading my thigh wide. I gripped his cock harder as he thrust a finger into me, and I cried out as he quickly added a second. As my hand moved rapidly up and down his shaft, aided in large part by the soap, his thumb brushed my clit. My hips canted upward as I sought to continue the contact, and a sound of frustration escaped my mouth.

"I guess I shouldn't tease, since you're being very nice to me today."

"Yes...I am," and the last word came out on a sigh as his thumb began the small, firm circles that were almost guaranteed to have me screaming in minutes. He was breathing heavily, and his half-lidded eyes were riveted on the actions of his hand. The water bounced off of his shoulders and back as he leaned into me, and I wanted to lick every drop of it from his skin. 

From some areas more than others, of course.

And to think he'd once called me pure. What else had he said that day, though?

"For me, you're perfect," I said, not knowing if the memory of that was lost in the hijacking. He'd regained almost everything, but some things were lost forever.

When he looked up at me, I knew that exchange was something else they hadn't been able to steal. If I'd known that these simple words were all that was required to produce one of his brilliantly, beautifully happy smiles, would I have broken out of my silence faster? Would I have realized what he was to me sooner? Given him more?

"Stop thinking, Katniss."

I realized my hand had stilled, and I'd gotten lost for a minute. I shook my head to clear it a little. 

"Where'd you go?" His hands cupped my face gently, and he pressed a kiss to my mouth. I tilted my head to deepen it, to show him I was okay, but he pulled back a little. "We can get out, have some dinner?"

He was always willing to change his own actions to give me what he thought I needed. I was trying very hard to do the same for him, but he was so much better at reading me. It was difficult to surprise him.

I was going to surprise him.

"Give me back the soap, Peeta," I smiled. "Dinner can wait awhile longer."

As he passed it back to me, his smile grew impossibly larger, and I knew dinner would be waiting at least until the hot water ran out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They were going to do it here, but something happens that you'll learn about soon enough.
> 
> Jo isn't going to be very happy when Katniss calls her in the morning.


	9. In Which Johanna's Job is Nearly Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _We were pressed so closely together it was hard to figure out where one of us ended and the other began. It was too much and not enough and absolutely, utterly, earthshakingly wonderful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise?
> 
> This is unbeta'd; not even angylinni knew this was this close to being a chapter. May be slightly edited later.

We ate stew out of the pot that night, wrapped in our robes, hair still wet from the shower. Peeta sliced some bread and we used it, our spoons, and occasionally our fingers to scoop the lukewarm, delicious mess into our mouths. My heart beat rapidly the entire time, knowing what we were going to do when we went back upstairs, so I stuffed my mouth with food to keep from grinning like an idiot, not wanting to give the surprise away.

I watched him from across the table as he shoveled food into his mouth--the way his jaw moved with every bite; the glistening trail a bead of water left as it dripped from the end of a blonde curl and ran down his neck; how his eyes would light up anew every time they met mine. Mid-pot I pushed back from the table, opened a bottle of wine and handed it to him. We didn't drink often, but I needed something to help still the nervous anticipation within me.

"Trying to get me drunk?" he grinned, taking a long drink out of the bottle and passing it back. My answering smile felt slightly insane, and I quickly raised the bottle to my lips. After several swallows, I felt a little steadier. 

"How else can I have my way with you?"

"I can think of many answers to that question," he replied, his eyes darkening. 

I lifted the bottle again, and as I swallowed, I could feel my head already growing a little fuzzy. It didn't take much alcohol for me to start feeling the effects, and the last thing I wanted was to be impaired. I held the bottle out to Peeta and stared at his mouth while he drank. When he ran his tongue over his lips afterward, I swallowed hard. He lowered the bottle slowly, and crooked a finger at me. I pushed myself away from the table and circled around to his chair on shaky legs.

He pulled at the belt on my robe slowly, untying the simple knot and letting it fall open. "That's better," he grinned. "You were wearing far too much clothing." He reached up and tugged on a nipple, hard, and I moaned as he got to his feet. My head fell back as he assaulted my skin with his lips and teeth, beginning with the curve of my neck and the tops of my shoulders, but quickly moving downward. When he laved a nipple with his tongue, I let out a sigh that belied the fact that he'd done this not more than an hour before. I pushed his own robe open and he shrugged it off of his shoulders, pushing mine the rest of the way down my arms and flinging it away as I pushed him back down into the chair, flung a leg over his lap and straddled him. 

We'd ground against one another many, many times since beginning our physical relationship, but we rarely let ourselves get this far. Every time we got this close to truly joining, it was harder and harder to stop. We'd gotten by with lips and tongues and fingers, and all of it was amazing, but we both wanted more.  I was pretty certain he was now waiting for me to show him that I was ready.

I'll never be more ready than I am at this moment, I thought, and stretched his month open with mine. His hands were on my ass now, lifting me to him, and I tilted my pelvis so that the shaft of his cock slid up and down between the lips of my pussy. His tongue thrust in and out of my mouth rhythmically as our bodies mimicked the motion below. We were pressed so closely together it was hard to figure out where one of us ended and the other began. It was too much and not enough and absolutely, utterly, earthshakingly wonderful.

I tore my mouth from his with a gasp, so close to orgasm that I could feel a scream building in the back of my throat. Before I could pull him back to me, he had my back bent over his hand slightly so that his teeth could scrape over my skin again and soon my hands in his hair held him to my breasts. The hardness of his cock kept rubbing against my folds and clit again and again, and each time, I lifted my hips slightly higher.

Too much. Not enough.

More.

When I pushed him up, braced my feet on the floor and lifted slightly so that the tip of his cock was grazing my entrance, he froze. "Kat..."

I swallowed his words with my mouth and let him slip inside, just a little.

"Fuck," he groaned. 

"Yes," I breathed, licking my way around his mouth. "Now." I pushed down a little more. There was a feeling of being stretched, and some slight discomfort, so I lifted myself up again, just slightly. 

"But..."

"Now," I repeated, and as I lowered myself again, there was only the stretching. Another inch, and then I raised myself up again. "Now."

"Here?" he asked, but it came out on the most toe-curling moan he'd ever produced, and I knew he was giving in to it. To this. To me.

I nodded, meeting his eyes, and lowered myself still further. He was about halfway inside me now, and I was fairly certain I might die by the end of this. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hands to my hips.

"So you just plan to fuck me?" 

Heat licked its way from my face down to where we were partially joined. I nodded again, my mouth suddenly dry. Peeta pulled me down, farther than I'd gone yet, and I groaned, both from the slight discomfort and from the way his fingers were gripping me hard enough to leave marks.

"I had plans, you know," he murmured, watching as I rose to the tip of his cock again. "You've ruined my plans."

"Should I..." I gasped, sliding down, still further, "...stop?"

A shudder ran through him, and his hips rose slightly. Almost there. "Don't you dare," he groaned, and lifted me again. "Plans can...wait." His eyes met mine briefly, and the look in them was dazed. Seconds later, they dropped back down, and he groaned aloud. "Katniss--fuck!--do that again."

"What--this?" I lifted myself up and slid down his shaft again, and this time, I felt him slide into me completely. I rested my forehead on his briefly, breathing hard.

"I can't believe how hot that looks," he groaned. "Don't move for a second, okay?"

"I'll try," I managed, but the urge to move was almost unbearable. Now that I knew what it felt like to have his cock inside me, I wanted more. I wanted everything. I wanted him so many ways I couldn't even process them all. "But I don't know if I can stop. I think I have to," I murmured into his ear, and lifted myself again. "I have to, Peeta," I managed, and I could feel the orgasm I'd denied myself building. "I..." and my words strangled in my throat as my world exploded, my entire body shaking with the sensation of climaxing with his cock inside me. 

"That's it...that's so hot," he said, his face against my breast, and grabbed the front of my hips. He pressed one thumb to my clit and I jerked a little harder on his cock, my orgasm continuing in waves as he thrust up into me. "I'm gonna come, Katniss," and his thrusts quickened. "I'm gonna...come...while you..." The groan that tore from his throat was long and low and broken, and he yanked me down to him as his body began to shake. I wrapped my arms around him and held him through it, so overwhelmed by sensation that I thought I  might begin to sob.

His lips were against my neck, barely touching the skin, whispering my name again and again as his breath began to slow. "Katniss...Katniss..."

"Katniss!"

Peeta's voice, suddenly louder, made me jerk in surprise. My eyes flew open and I lifted my head quickly.

I was sitting in my chair at the table, and Peeta was crouched down next to me, one hand on my shoulder. I saw he held a dish towel in the other. I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "You really can't hold your wine," he chuckled. 

"What...I fell asleep?" I couldn't have fallen asleep. That would mean...

"I got up to get some cookies, and the phone rang--Johanna, of course, with her usual bad timing. When I came back to the table you were out, so I cleaned up. Come up to bed now."

...that would mean it had been a dream. 

I could feel my cheeks flush, and almost at the same moment, I realized how wet I was. My mouth curved into a small smile. "Bed sounds good," I said, letting a little of what I was feeling into my voice. Peeta's eyes flared, and he met my smile with one of his own.

"What did you dream about, Katniss?"

"Come to bed and I'll tell you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was, at least partially, worth the wait.


End file.
